#I want to throw it away for my ex | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocoreads · 1 year ago

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OMG MANXY MOO I FINISHED THIS TODAY WAS IT WAS WONDERFUL, EXHILARATING, AND the most bittersweet adventure i've read <3 i love your setup for the story--that prom dress scene at the beginning is flawless!! as expected ur banter is tippy top notch and ur characters are refreshing!! i enjoyed reading their interactions so much (esp the scene at the end awwww my heart couldn't take it!)

some of my fave excerpts:

4 + 4 = 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my breath was fully taken! i had zero breaths!

literally made me choke i loved this sm

OUUU I WAS WINDING UP I REREAD IT MULTIPLE TIMES!!

my eyes were fully reading it!!!!! it's all so palpable and vibrant!!

the pressure throughout this fic is so delicious as someone who thrives off angst and creating a smouldering wildfire of tension this was super satisfying!! you want to keep reading cuz ur on the same edge as the characters, waiting 4 smth to go wrong, knowing the illusion can't go on forever even when it's at its sweetest :(( wanting them to talk so bad but then it all goes up in flames :c

also i attempted to squeeze all my most blaring thoughts into the tags but im pree sure i hit the tag limit JHWFEUKHF

ur my hero this was amazing!!!!!!

when the devil drives.

pairing — jeonghan x fem!reader ft. bestie!joshua

word count — 23.7k

genres — road trip au, exes to friends with benefits to lovers, fighting as flirting, angst, fluff, smut (fingering, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, slight praise, cunnilingus)

warnings — toxic relationships, swearing and threatening language, explicit sexual content, they're both infuriating (yes that needs a warning, trust me)

summary — when your best friend breaks his leg and cancels your summer getaway, jeonghan turns up in his place to take you home from college on what was supposed to be a five hour car ride. except he has other plans, and you end up with more than you bargained for on a week-long road trip to nowhere with the cynical, silvertongued ex-boyfriend whom you're still kinda sorta in love with.

note — it's finally done. the bane of my existence. please enjoy the fic that made me so stressed that it delayed my period by like a week. on a lighter note, there's a playlist. enjoy <3

go to main masterlist | svt masterlist

THREE YEARS EARLIER.

The person in the mirror is not you.

The person in the mirror is beautiful when you’ve only ever felt pretty, mature even though you still feel like an overgrown child, and confident despite the fact that your heart is beating right out of your chest. Despite her makeover skills being limited to being practiced only on fortnightly dates, your mom has actually done an incredible job with you. Long hours of youtube video-watching and swatting you to remind you to sit still have finally paid off.

You trail your lilac-coated fingertips over your bare collar, marveling at the way your skin throws off light. It probably wouldn’t take much to convince your friends that it’s actually makeup instead of sweat doing the job, but it probably isn’t worth it. You stand up, looking down at the ruffled skirt of the purple dress you picked out at the mall weeks ago. Then, glancing back up at the mirror, you lift a hand to your arm, giving it a light pinch.

The yelp leaves your lips right as your mother opens the door to your bedroom, gesturing frantically with a makeup brush. “Honey, he’s here,” she informs you in a rapid hiss, looking as giddy as if it were her final prom night. “Get downstairs, quickly.”

“But my phone, and my purse—”

“They’re downstairs. First drawer of the credenza.” She slams the door shut before you can get a word in, leaving you standing in the middle of the room feeling even more alone than before.

You begin chewing on your bottom lip, and stop when you remember her specific instructions against ruining the lipstick. Smoothing down the ruffles with fluttering hands, you cast one last, yearning glance at the full-length mirror before going to the door, unlocking it gently and stepping outside.

The walk to the edge of the staircase is short, but it feels like more than an hour has passed by the time you get to it. You take a deep breath, clutching the balustrade with trembling fingers, and pause.

The noise had gone unnoticed by you earlier, owing to the anxious clamoring of overlapping thoughts in your head, but now if you pay attention you can hear your father’s stern tones, no doubt questioning your date at the front door. Anxious once more, you take a step back, wringing your hands. You carefully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, running your hands over your skirt again, letting the texture of the ruffles calm you down. Okay, okay, I can do this, you think, placing the ball of your thumb between your teeth. It’s no big deal.

No big deal at all.

“Dad, quit grilling him,” you call out, and finally step into view. Your father looks up, and so does the poor boy he’s been cross-examining for who knows how long. You feel your face heat up at suddenly being brought into the spotlight, but manage a small smile.

You think you see your dad’s eyes misting over, but then your eyes automatically stray over to the person whose reaction you’ve been anticipating more. Your date is standing there slack-jawed, the top of his slightly-loosened tie visible as the bouquet of roses in his hands droops from inattentiveness.

“Hi,” you say shyly, pleased at his reaction. Then, raising your hands above your dress, you give him a slow twirl. “So,” you say breathlessly, “how do I look?”

Jeonghan’s eyes are bright with fervor, the grip on the plastic cover around the flowers tighter than before, which you can tell by the way the blood has receded from his knuckles.

And he doesn’t say anything at all.

NOW.

“And done,” you say, slapping the end of the packing tape on the side of what you hope is the last carton. Then, still squatting, you place a hand on the side and lean back to examine your handiwork. To your dismay, the end of the tape has already begun to curl. "You think that’ll keep?"

"Absolutely," your roommate, Mina, hums in a way that tells you she isn’t listening. You glance back at her exasperatedly, and she gives you an apologetic grin. “Listen, I’m beyond caring at this point. That was the last of them, right?”

“Checklist.” You point at her, and she sighs, her acrylic nails tapping against the glitzy pink clipboard in her hands.

“Yes, mother.”

Straightening, you place your hands on your hips and survey the area like the captain of a ship sailing into unknown waters. Your shared room, which had once been a safe haven strewn with comforters and fluffy rugs, is now overrun by corrugated cardboard boxes, some bulging and some rattling, almost all sealed unevenly with old dried-up tape. You rub your creased forehead. “I feel like we should’ve gotten professionals to do this work for us. The RA even recommended someone who gives out discounts for people who move before summer.”

“Are you kidding? We did a pretty bang-up job, considering this was all last-minute, and for free too,” Mina exclaims. “Plus, I would never trust a stranger with my ceramic dolls.”

“You wouldn’t trust me with them, and I’ve been holding your hair up while you vomited in the toilet for months,” you complain. “Did we pack everything?”

She hums under her breath again, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes roll down over the checklist. “I think so. Did you finish packing?”

“Yep.”

Mina looks sideways at one corner of the room, where your lone olive-green suitcase sits flush against the wall. “I still don’t understand how you’re going to survive a whole summer on just that.”

“It’s not a whole summer,” you correct. The thought of leaving fills you with a buzzing excitement, and you have to bite your lip to stop the smile from unfurling like a banner over your face. “Just a couple of weeks out in nature. And maybe a few motels. Neither place really requires much clothing.”

She makes a face, but dismisses the line of conversation with a wave of her hand. “Whatever you say,” she says. "Now, help me push these out into the hallway?"

You groan, but oblige. It’s mostly your fault that the two of you had to pack everything yourselves, since you picked the last possible day to move out before you’d have been thrown out of the dorms. Most of your stuff is already gone, but as a dutiful roommate, you’d promised Mina that you’d help her out before leaving for the summer. So, here you are, running on less than three hours of sleep, having spent most of this morning and the night before squeezing piles of clothes into boxes and folding bubble wrap like splints.

When you’re done, Mina takes the elevator down with you, and the sole suitcase you’re carrying feels even lighter than it is after all the boxes you'd been lugging around. When the metal doors slide open at the ground floor, you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Mina pats your hand. Her clipboard is still tucked under her arm. “Don’t be so worried.”

You let out an uncertain laugh that fades quickly into a grimace, fingers clenched tight around the handle of your suitcase. “Why would I be worried?”

She pries your fingers out of their vice-like grip. “Exactly,” she says, grabbing the handle in your stead and pulling the suitcase out of the elevator, leaving you to awkwardly follow along, not quite knowing what to do with your hands. “After all your unfounded confidence in your packing and planning skills, it would be a shame if you lost faith in them now.” You can’t help but smile a bit at that, but for some reason, you still feel squeamish. “We’re not late, are we?”

Pushing your irrational anxiety aside, you hurriedly check your watch. “Well, um, a little,” you say with a shrug, “but Josh makes it a point never to show up until it’s fifteen minutes past our appointment.”

“So it’s all dandy then,” she says, her voice a bit further away, and when you look up you realize that she’s more than just a few steps ahead of you despite the heels and the suitcase, and you hasten your step. “Just make sure to check your pockets for condoms—”

“Mina.”

“—and your phone and wallet, and pepper spray.” She catches the stern look on your face. “You know, just in case.” She stops suddenly, and you almost trip over your own luggage. You look up at her in exasperation, but stop short upon noting the confusion on her face. “Is that Joshua?”

You follow her gaze across the parking lot, and spot the unmistakable blue Corolla parked a couple spots over. There’s a figure leaning against the side, his stark blonde hair makes the heated air shimmer like a halo over his head. Your first thought is oh, he dyed his hair. Your second is that’s not Joshua.

“What?” Mina looks confused, even as she falls into step beside you as you begin to stalk your way through the lot. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing yet,” you mutter as you reach the car. The blonde looks up, and your heart jumps into your throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy who is not Joshua tilts his head questioningly. “Why the cold reception?” Jeonghan asks.

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, and are just about to open your mouth to elaborate on just why he’s getting a cold reception when Mina places a placating hand on your arm. “Hi, I’m Mina,” she says, putting on a bright smile, no doubt to outweigh the dark glare you’ve directed at his face. “The roommate.”

“Jeonghan.” He inclines his head with a neutral yet pleasant smile of his own, glancing at you. His smile falls almost comically upon seeing the expression on your face. “The…”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you interject, relentless. Mina is looking more and more discomfited by the second, but you scarcely notice.

“The ex,” Jeonghan completes. He then turns to you, raising a cool eyebrow. “I thought you knew,” he says.

“Knew what?” You demand.

He straightens, slowly drawing his hands out of his pockets, and you almost regret asking the question. Always the dramatics, you think bitingly. “That there’s been a slight change of plans.”

There was a time you thought you could trust Joshua Hong.

For the major part of your life, he had been the one person you could rely on for (mostly) everything, even when that something involved needing someone to catch you when you snuck out your window at 2 a.m., or knowing you’d always have a clean band-aid to use if you scraped your knee biking through a junkyard.

That time was approximately a minute and twenty seconds ago, when you hadn’t pulled out your phone with its unrepaired crack and checked the unread messages—the most recent of which were from him. It says sorry, and that he’s broken his leg and won’t be able to drive you from your dorm for the planned road trip. The crack lands right over the word sorry.

You know it’s been a minute and twenty seconds because you’ve been counting.

It’s like a bubble has burst inside your chest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble softly, clenching your fingers tighter around your poor phone, which might end up with another crack if you squeeze it any further. “And he couldn’t tell me this before.”

“So you’ve been saying,” says the unwelcome replacement Joshua sent in his place. Jeonghan doesn’t have a trace of sympathy on his face as he folds his arms across his chest and checks the time on his watch. “Not to sound like an asshole, but it’s already three o’clock. We were supposed to be in town before dark, and it’s at least five hours from here.”

His voice is flat, utterly unsympathetic to your frustration. You’re still reeling, which is the only reason you don’t snap back immediately. It’s bad enough that your best friend isn’t here after all the work that went into planning and budgeting your trip, but Yoon Jeonghan’s presence is like salt on the wound.

Maybe you’d say something snarky if it hadn’t been eight full months since you’d last talked to him. If the anger from your last conversation hadn’t faded over the long months and turned into something more…malleable. Manageable, as if you could ever have associated the word with him, with the feeling that you were swallowing hot coals every time you looked at him. You still remember the last time you talked to him in painstaking detail, and as you realize that fact, the memory comes rushing back, alongside the feeling that you’re going to throw up.

“So...that’s it?” You don’t know if you’re supposed to be nice to him. Exes have never before been an issue for you because you’ve never really had one before. “Joshua breaks his leg, so he sends you over.” Like nothing ever happened between us, you want to say, but your tongue seems to curl up when you try. “As a stand-in?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and you can tell he’s holding back some words of his own. “Call it what you want, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face.

Part of you knows that he’s just trying to rile you up, but unfortunately, he’s had a lot of practice at it, so it’s working. You find yourself wishing that you hadn’t sent Mina away with nothing more than a short hug and a few words, but ever since you spotted Jeonghan across the parking lot you’ve been feeling about as steady as a salt shaker. Some support right now would’ve been nice.

Your fingers unclench from around the phone. There’s two ways this could go—the good way, in which both of you pretend that nothing ever happened, or the bad way, and you don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be. Jeonghan has never been a patient person, but right now, even as you stand silently in front of him after months of no contact, he seems unresponsive. Something hurt and hungry rears its head inside you at his hollow indifference, and you taste a familiar venom at the back of your tongue.

But you’re not going to give him the satisfaction.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask instead.

Jeonghan shrugs. You’re not sure if you just imagined the tension going out of his shoulders. “I owed Joshua a favor.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You expect me to believe that?”

His lips thin. “Would you believe me if I said it was a big favor?” he asks casually, but his shoulders are tense again.

You’re aware of the intensity with which you’re watching him, and the fervence with which he’s avoiding your gaze. “No.”

“Figured.” He looks away right before you manage to catch the look in his eyes. “Is that all you’re carrying, or…?”

You look back at your olive green suitcase, the handle still pulled out, lying forgotten a couple of steps away from you. You don’t remember having moved towards Jeonghan during the course of your conversation, and you’re surprised enough by the realization that your chest tightens for a second. “That’s all,” you say numbly, and Jeonghan turns to pull open the car door.

“Well, then, we don’t have all day,” he says, gesturing to the seat. You feel a twinge of irritation again, but say nothing, roughly grabbing the suitcase handle and yanking a door open. Asshole, asshole, asshole, you chant in your head. This is going to be the worst drive of your life.

Even worse, you find it impossible to fall asleep.

Somehow, it’s not the noise. Jeonghan doesn’t whistle, and he doesn’t turn on the radio, or try to make small talk that would make you want to tear your hair out. He remains perfectly silent, not saying a single word to you after starting the car, not even an offer to stop by a corner store or for a drink of water. It’s been some time since the loud city faded into empty, expansive grasslands on either side of the highway, but you’re still wide awake.

Maybe it’s the silence that keeps you up, or whatever it is that it implies. You’re on edge, and your mind is churning, struggling between being mad at Joshua or being mad at Jeonghan or being mad at yourself for giving a shit. You’re still so shaken by Jeonghan’s sudden reappearance that you haven’t even begun to process anything else.

I’m going home, you think numbly, but even that thought evokes only a dull response in you. You think about the weeks building up to the summer, the calls with your dad. Your not-so-meticulously packed suitcase lies in the car’s boot, probably collecting dust if you know anything about the state of Joshua’s car. Much like all your dreams of summer. No beers, and no swimming pools, and certainly no Joshua.

You look over at Jeonghan again, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You must be in a daze, because for a moment, you think about leaning over and nudging him.

What makes seeing him so much worse is that he looks almost exactly the same as he used to. The same hands, the same eyes, even his hair is still bleached the same silvery-white. The first button of his white shirt is opened, revealing a sliver of tanned skin inside. He always wore pressed shirts and sweater vests—and here a venomous thought enters your mind—when he really should be wearing a straightjacket instead.

When you knew him a year ago, he had been beautiful, but it was a beauty that was yours to possess, to kiss and to touch and to hold. He’s still beautiful, but now it’s the kind of beauty that makes him untouchable. The kind that belongs behind a glass pane, like a fragile display made out of cards or glass or papyrus in a museum exhibit that you would stare at with wonder in your eyes, yearning to reach out but holding yourself back knowing that a single touch could send it crashing to the floor. No, you can’t allow yourself to touch him now.

So you cross your arms, tuck your fingers under your biceps, and turn to glare out the window instead.

You switch with him after the first stop at a gas station.

“I’ll be right back,” Jeonghan had told you before heading in, and you’d taken the opportunity to get out and stretch your legs. When he comes back carrying a plastic bag from the convenience store, it takes him a few minutes before he notices standing forlornly in front of a tree.

“What?” he asks, only half curious. It’s a tall three, thick-trunked, with segmented branches that end in spiky gray-green leaves that make it look like a high school rocker with too much hairspray.

“It’s a Joshua tree,” you reply mournfully.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, and you turn to him with an evil look in your eye as you begin the walk back to the car. “He broke his leg, not his neck.”

“Of course it’s all the same to you,” you fire back. Jeonghan unlocks the Corolla with short, sharp movements that show his exasperation, and tosses the keys to you. You catch them, going around to the driver’s seat, as he leans in and pushes against the lumpy plastic bag, trying to make space for it on the dashboard. “A broken leg is pretty painful.”

“More painful for you than him, apparently,” Jeonghan grunts. With a final push, he manages to make the bag stay, and climbs into the car, shutting the door behind him before pulling on the seatbelt. He turns to look at you with his forehead furrowed as the car starts rolling forward. “I thought you wouldn’t want to drive.”

“Why, because you think I’m sulking?” you ask, offense creeping into your voice. Your neck is already coated in sweat, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the weather or just a bodily reaction to your feelings.

“I’d say it’s normal to be upset about your best friend being hurt.” Jeonghan shrugs.

“I’m not upset about that,” you snap.

“You’re not upset about your best friend being hurt?”

“I am. I just mean—” You break off, irritated. The sweat is now drying because of the hot air coming in through the open tops of the windows, making your skin itch. You just twist your shoulder backwards, unwilling to let go of the steering wheel because if you do, you might just sock Jeonghan in the mouth. “It kind of brings things to a halt. For both him and me.”

Jeonghan leans against the side. “I wouldn’t call one canceled trip bringing your life to a halt.”

Your head is beginning to hurt. “You’re right,” you say testily. “It’s just really fucking inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient?” he echoes. “You get to go home to sweet Joshua. Nurse him through his grievously traumatic injury. It could be a bonding experience, unless you’re bent on calling the poor incapacitated boy an inconvenience.”

“I never—” You grit your teeth, forcing down your rising anger. The heat has begun to crawl like a swarm of fire ants, up your neck and down your back. “I’m surprised he only broke his leg,” you say savagely. “Considering that he thought of sending you in his place, instead of literally anyone else, I wonder how he didn’t get a concussion instead.”

Jeonghan laughs. “All this anger over a little road trip? What exactly were the two of you planning to do, pray tell? I feel like I’m missing out.”

You kiss your teeth, thinking better of responding with another biting comment. Your skin is sweaty and itchy and hot and there’s still a good four hours before you get home. Going at it with him isn’t going to help your mood. You tell yourself that it’s been eight months, you’ve grown, you’ve become a better person. You’re not going to fall for his bait.

Then Jeonghan says, “You could always tour his bedroom.”

In your head, you slam on the brakes, bringing the car to an immediate halt for dramatic effect. In real life, however, you’re painfully aware of how Jeonghan’s lack of a seatbelt would send him flying into the windshield, so you slow down before coming to a rolling stop at the side of the road. Your throat feels like hot lava.

“Really?” the perpetrator asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s the witless bedroom comment that gets you?”

You clench and unclench your jaw a couple of times, trying to bring your temper down, but to no avail. Your hands on the wheel are unusually tight, as if trying to close into complete fists around it, so you have to forcefully pry your fingers apart before you unlock the door and step out of the car.

Jeonghan copies your movements, getting out of his seat to lean over the hood of the car, his posture suggesting curiosity rather than sympathy. His lips part, no doubt in preparation to say something to push you over the proverbial edge, and warning bells go off inside your head.

“Shut up,” you snap, and he recoils, blinking in surprise.

“I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” you repeat decisively, turning to level your gaze at him like the tip of a sword. “I didn’t ask for you to be an ideal travelling companion, but the least you could do is shut the fuck up.”

Jeonghan says nothing, but his eyes stay on your face, intent and oddly unnerving. You force yourself to look away lest you give away some kind of weakness in your expression—being civil is your best bet to last the duration of the ride, but this is still a push-and-pull. With him, it always is.

“This was supposed to be the last summer we had before graduating and getting jobs and moving to different parts of the country,” you say through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t even going to be that big of a deal—just being on the road for a few weeks with each other for company, having no responsibilities, no destinations, and no deadlines. And then he had to go and fuck himself over, and fuck me over in the process, and now it’s weeks and weeks of work gone to waste, and all I’ve been looking forward to is dust. And on top of that, you had to come in and do what you do best, which is twist everything I say and make me feel like shit about it like it's your god-given right to ruin my life. So, yeah, it’s the fucking—”

The anger seems to have gone out of you somewhere towards the end, and you feel yourself deflate like a pricked balloon. “And it’s so fucking hot, too,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands. Then, face still covered, you laugh, feeling ridiculous and petulant like a child after throwing a temper tantrum about a broken toy. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault for having to drive me, and it’s not Joshua’s fault for getting his goddamned leg broken. I’m just…” You struggle to find the right words to express your frustration, but ultimately give up. “It’s so hot,” you whisper.

Your face burns, and you’re no longer sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. It’s unusual for you to lose your composure, but you must have been more affected by this than you had imagined. Or maybe it’s just Jeonghan bringing out the violence in your emotions again.

Speak of the devil. Jeonghan steps around the front of the car and comes to a stop in front of you, hands very still at his sides, yet tensed as if they’re about to move. Suddenly you feel very tired, and very, very small.

“Let me drive the rest of the way.” His tone is gentler than you expected, but you’re still not brave enough to meet his eyes. He hesitates, like he’s about to say something else, but then his lips press into a thin, concerned line. You remember that expression from years ago, his eyes warm, a hand reaching over to curl around yours. Now, it just feels alien.

“Get some rest,” he finally says, and you don’t have the heart to fight back.

It’s been half an hour, and you still haven’t said a word to each other. Whatever pretense of cordiality you thought could be preserved is gone—if it had even existed in the first place—and the tension in the air is thick enough that you could carve something out of it. You’re beginning to get a little tired of the silence, now that the noise in your head has begun to quiet down just enough so you can actually think.

At least he’s turned the air conditioner on, which is a small mercy. You don’t know how you forgot about it before, but it probably had something to do with your rising irritation and the complete lack of awareness due to your blinding rage. Maybe if you’d just retained enough sense to turn the stupid freaking air conditioner on, you wouldn’t have had a loud, embarrassing breakdown in the middle of the freeway.

“I can hear your internal monologue from all the way over here,” Jeonghan says, making you start. It’s almost as if he actually can hear every single one of your thoughts—which shouldn’t be so surprising, considering your history. Your heart’s startled palpitations turn into a painful squeeze. “Stop thinking so hard and get some sleep.”

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” you mutter. “I’m just…restless.”

“Can’t wait to get home?”

You scoff. “Yep,” you say, dragging the syllable sarcastically. “Can’t wait to get home.”

Jeonghan catches your eye in the rearview mirror. There’s something quietly thoughtful brimming behind his eyes, and although you can’t quite put your finger on why, it makes you sit a bit more easily. It could be that you’re glad he isn’t too mad at you—people pleaser that you are—but it’s more likely that the look is…familiar. Familiar enough that relaxing in reaction to it is an instinct your body hasn’t gotten rid of just yet. Fucking biology. “We don’t have to go home if you don’t want to,” he says with pretend nonchalance, looking away.

You laugh, a little sadly, and uncross your arms to rub your hands down your biceps. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

It’s quiet for another moment. This time, it’s you who can almost hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head. You can’t help but anticipate what he’s going to say. “I don’t know,” he says, voice so muted that you have to look at his mouth to make sure you can correctly make out what he’s saying. “Where were you planning to go with Joshua?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “No,” you say firmly right as he asks the question, your voice a little rough and more than a little hoarse. You’re sitting stock-still now, like you touched a live wire and have been electrified in place. “Don’t even think of going there.”

He shrugs, and you can see the slightest hint of tension in his neck muscles when they flex with the movement. “If we take the highway, there’s a motel about half an hour from—”

“Don’t,” you say through your teeth. He’s still not looking at you. “Jeonghan, stop it.”

“Two days,” he says, unrelenting. His eyes finally flicker to yours, and you feel something stutter in your heart when you see the first hint of genuine emotion in his expression. The first time in eight months. “If we take the U-turn up ahead and keep going, it takes two days to lead up to the bay. Just two days. We could stay in a bed-and-breakfast, and if you still want to go back after that, I’ll take you home. No stops.”

You swallow back the dry patch in your throat. It feels wrong to see him like this, so eager when he greeted you with all the warmth of an icicle just a couple hours ago in the parking lot behind your apartment building. You know some part of it is because of your unintended meltdown in the middle of the road an hour ago, but the whole proposal reeks of pity.

“Not funny,” you say shakily.

“I’m not joking,” comes the simple reply.

“What’s the catch?” you ask sharply. “Not even half an hour ago you were letting me know exactly what you thought of road trips and risks. Why the sudden change of heart, huh, Jeonghan? If you tell me it’s because you feel guilty, I swear to god I’ll punch you.”

“Well,” he starts, lifting a single shoulder, “I don’t really have anything better to do. And if I take you home right now your mom will definitely make me stay for dinner, which would be awkward for both of us.” He shrugs. “And…maybe I want to spite Joshua. For breaking his leg playing soccer with little kids, and making me come all this way just to pick up an ungrateful little alley cat who could’ve just taken the bus.”

You lapse into silence for a few moments. Then: “He really broke his leg playing soccer with little kids?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan replies, but not without an eye roll to accompany it. He looks at you then. “So what will it be, sweetheart?”

You know in your heart that there’s only one right answer to that question, and it’s a resounding no.

But then, if you’d been sensible enough to listen to your heart, you probably wouldn’t have ended up five hours away from home in a shitty old college majoring in fucking math of all things. So of course you tell him to turn the car around.

Jeonghan has always been an ass with apologies.

Which is ironic, because ever since you first met him, you’d known that he had the gift of the gab (for lack of a better phrase). His talents had always been in lying and talking and picking exactly the right quote from a classic text to make himself sound smart—which, admittedly, he is. He went from making people pay him to write their college essays and down the natural pipeline to majoring in literature at a fancy place. He’s always been good at making you angry, but you don’t think he’s ever figured out how to make things right. Or care enough to work for it.

So when Jeonghan knocks on the door and you open it to find him with a beer bottle in his hand, you’re only slightly surprised to see it.

When he comes in, his eyes go straight to the double bed. He steps inside the room (at the first motel you’d seen which advertised running hot water, which makes no damn sense anyway because it’s over a hundred degrees outside and neither of you is taking a hot bath anytime soon, but whatever). The blades of the ceiling fan spin lazily, barely even disturbing his hair.

“The speed for the fan doesn’t go beyond three, and the air conditioner only works between seven and seven,” you inform him as you sit back on the bed, your suitcase open on the mattress in front of you.

Jeonghan nods, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He’s probably not used to this kind of place at all, but if you’re going on the road with him, you’re not pulling your punches. You’re happy enough with the arrangements yourself, being accustomed to living in even worse conditions. His description of you as an ungrateful little alley cat wasn’t far from the mark. It could always be worse, but you don’t tell him that.

You’d decided against calling your parents—or Joshua—to inform them about your change in plans, and had instead chosen a few simple texts to convey the information. They trust you enough to deal with your last-minute changes, but you know that there’s going to be a lot of questions about your choice of companion when you get back. Those questions, however, you can confidently avoid thinking about at least until you get back. And as for Joshua—he should’ve known better, you think primly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan says suddenly, breaking you out of your reverie. The beer bottle sits guilty in his grip. Gotcha, you think. “For riling you up in the car. Being around you kind of triggers my fight or flight instinct, and I’ve never been much of a runner. Heaven knows my dad tried, though.”

You half smile in acknowledgement. His expression is awkward, which makes your smile widen. The apology in no way makes up for your history, but now that you're already halfway through your decision, you decide to put him out of his misery and call a truce.

Leaning forward, you take the beer he offers you, raising it in his direction like a salute. “You’re good enough with words to make up for your lack of athletic ability,” you say, making the corners of his lips curl up. “And the pen is mightier than the sword, as they say. Care for a sip?”

He shakes his head no. “Can’t blame you,” you say, nodding sagely as you casually uncap the bottle with your teeth. “Beer does taste like piss when warm.”

“Or cold. Or room temperature,” he says. “I don’t know how you manage to keep it down.”

“Needs must.” You grin, patting the empty space on the mattress next to you, and he indulges your request. “So, I was thinking about what you said,” you start, taking a square of paper from between folded clothes and books in your unzipped suitcase, and unfolding it. “I’ve been going over the route Josh and I picked out for the trip, but I thought of making some changes.” You run your fingertips over a squiggly blue line marked on the map, and tap a spot outside it. “We could visit the museum. Take a meandering route, make a few stops here-and-there before we actually get to the bay.”

Jeonghan peers over your shoulder. “That’s about eight hours from here.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting the lip of the bottle to your mouth and taking a gulp. You make a face as you swallow. “Damn. I thought it was kind of clichéd, but warm beer really does taste like piss.”

“I did warn you.” He’s stiffened a bit. You sniff the air, wondering if something stinks.

“Well, uh,” you mutter under your breath, and bring the bottle back up to your lips with slow, careful motions. “We could make a few pit stops over here, and go to the shore later. Then there’s the wharf.” Your fingertip moves over the map.

Jeonghan looks at the spot you’re pointing at. His gaze shifts to your hand, then up over your arm, all the way to your bared shoulder—which you realize is mere inches from his face.

He’s stopping breathing, as if afraid to exhale on your skin. You open your mouth to make a joke, but it dies in your throat. Your mouth remains open, no words coming out. Jeonghan lifts his eyes up to yours, and you feel your heart jump. The scent of green apple shampoo envelopes you.

Something thumps on the roof above. Jeonghan looks up, and you take the opportunity to nimbly shift away. “Do you think that was a rat or a person?” you wonder aloud.

“I’m not sure which I’d rather have it be,” he answers, getting to his feet. You look up at him, the beer bottle in your hand barely empty, but you’re already feeling lightheaded. “Dinner?”

Dinner is uneventful. You usually hate forcing pointless conversations, but now you find yourself broaching all kinds of topics from the weather to the food to the ketchup stain on the waiter’s apron.

Jeonghan is polite, laughing at the right moments and nodding along when you need him to listen, but you feel fidgety on the worn leather seat that you normally would have sunk comfortably into. The long-drawn conversation makes you feel like you’re talking to a stranger, not someone you’ve known for the most part of your life. Not for the first time, you mourn a friendship that has seemingly dissolved after your break-up.

By the time the two of you walk back, it’s almost ten. You pass under more than a few flickering streetlights, but they are more than made up for by the neon signs that begin to light up after dark.

When you get back to the room, all you can think about is the double bed. How convenient, you think to yourself, more than a little miserably when you think back to the tiny moment you shared while looking over the map. While you’ve moved on from Jeonghan, your body clearly hasn’t, if the way it reacted to his scent is anything to go by. And you have moved on. Why else would you be so comfortable basically running away with him?

“I hope the lock works,” Jeonghan mutters to himself as he locks the door for the night. You’re less confident, so you zip your bag back up and push it flush against the white door, propping the handle against the top.

Your phone rings, and you take it out, checking the caller ID. Joshua. You look up, and find Jeonghan looking at you, his face blank. Feeling unsettled, you reject the call, and put your phone away.

Now that it’s just the two of you with no dinners or strangers or ketchup stains to distract your conversations, the two of you fall into a pregnant silence. Jeonghan thumbs the collar of his shirt idly, looking at the bed with a glazed-over expression. You sidle by the bed and place a pillow in the middle, then stand back to survey your work.

“It looks like a face,” Jeonghan says.

“We can share the blanket,” you allow. For all the burning heat of the mid-afternoon sun, you know that the nights in the desert are cruelly cold, especially so within the paper-thin walls of the motel room. “Do you want to keep the fan on?”

“I’m good.” For some reason, Jeonghan looks ill. “You know…I just realized I don’t have a single change of clothes.”

You take a good look at his current attire, and it’s definitely not an excuse to stare. He’s wearing a plain white shirt, as you noted before. It’s fitted but billows faintly about his frame, making him look like a prince of old. His hair falls in soft blonde waves down to his neck, brushing the very top of his collar, and a few stray strands frame his face. Even though the harsh fluorescent lights draw the color from his face, the sheen of sweat over his cheekbones make them shine. You watch, transfixed, as Jeonghan’s fingers slip from the collar to the undone button, the pad of his thumb shaping the outline of it.

And he’s also wearing jeans. The jeans are reusable, you think, blinking yourself out of your stupor. Get a hold on yourself. But you can already pick out the stained collar of his shirt with ease. “We can go shopping tomorrow,” you suggest, clearing away the thickness of your voice. “Restock your supply of Walmart t-shirts.”

He looks at you with narrowed eyes, and you allow yourself a smile.

When all the blinds are all drawn and the lights turn off, you’re the first under the blankets. The pillow you’d ceremoniously placed down as a barrier between the two of you is flush against your back as you curl into yourself. You feel the mattress dip and the bed frame creak as Jeonghan gets into bed. It feels strange to have him in the same bed again, something you used to yearn for, now something so strange and troubling.

“Neighbors are loud,” he states, his voice muffled. You curl your fingers into the bedspread, and sigh silently before turning on your side so you’re facing him. Sure enough, now that you’re paying attention you can hear party music bleeding in from the room next to yours.

Jeonghan is nothing more than a dark outline against the sparing light that seeps in from under the door. “G’night,” you say softly. Softer than you intended, anyway. You bite your lip and duck your head under the blanket, feeling inexplicably schoolgirlish.

With the way your heart beats in your chest, it sounds almost as loud as the music coming from next door. You’re almost worried about him hearing it, but if he does, he doesn’t betray a thought. There’s no way I’m falling asleep like this, you think to yourself, but it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before you’re at the soft edges of sleep.

“Good night,” Jeonghan whispers back, just as you begin to drift off.

True to your word, the first place you put on your list of shopping locations is the local Walmart.

“You know I intend to wear these newly-acquired clothes outside of this trip, right?” Jeonghan complains as you browse a rack of t-shirts that advertise themselves as being up to fifty percent off! “You’re wasting your time if you think I’m going to spend my well-earned money on anything here.”

“May I remind you, mister, that this whole trip thing was your idea?" you ask, pulling out a tie-dyed shirt that’s a swirl of shades of peach and baby blue, and holding it up in front of his frame with an appreciative hum. “Plus, don’t you feel gross in your sweaty old underwear? This could be the splash of color your wardrobe so desperately needs.”

Jeonghan looks unimpressed. He pushes the tie-dye down, looking over it at you with a shake of his head. “I know better than to trust your choices, even those made with good intentions. And your intentions at the moment are clearly not good,” he emphasizes. “Anyway, this is not the underwear section.”

You raise your eyebrows, and look behind you pointedly at what is, actually, the underwear section. Jeonghan follows your gaze to the display of Fruit of the Loom underwear. “No, nope,” he murmurs. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too good for Walmart underwear, are we?” You wrinkle your nose, but don't press the issue, moving instead towards another part of the t-shirts section. The tie-dye stays in your hand, though.

“With underwear, I always believe that what you get is what you pay for,” Jeonghan says, then frowns. “What are you doing?”

You look up, innocent. “These crewnecks are on sale too.”

“That’s because it’s the peak of blistering summer,” he says, exasperated. “No one’s wearing crewnecks.”

“At night, though.”

“I’m not wearing a crewneck to bed.”

You’re about to crack a joke about going on long walks by the beach, but think better of it. Jeonghan looks confused by your sudden surrender, but you’re too busy looking in every other direction possible as a prickly heat crawls up your neck. “You really are a snob,” you mumble.

“I’m not a snob.” He rolls his eyes. “Can we go somewhere else? Anywhere else?”

You glance back, coy. “Anywhere?”

He grimaces. “I take that back.”

“Your wish is my command.” You wave the blue-and-coral tie-dye in the air. “We’re buying this one though. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna let you walk out of here empty-handed.”

For once, Jeonghan doesn’t complain, but he does purse his lips to make his feelings clear. “I guess I could make use of it when I have no clean clothes left.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

He still pays for it—and some clean, much-needed underwear, despite his many complaints—at the counter, and you’re honestly surprised at how civil he's being. You'd thought that it would require a lot more effort to make this whole thing as smooth as possible after the fiasco in the car, but he's been on his beat behavior since then.

Despite your outburst and Jeonghan’s subsequent apology, you’re aware that neither of you have actually broached the reason for this tension. It’s much easier to just not think about the break-up, and act like it never happened, because that’s a whole can of worms right there that you do not wish to open.

You wish you could unscrew the top of your head and bring your brain out. Give it a good shake to dust off all the stray thoughts you keep having about Jeonghan and your self-control and your relationship, and just let yourself enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

“We could go thrifting,” you suggest once you’re in the car, and for once, Jeonghan doesn’t seem too opposed to the idea.

The first thrift store you find on the GPS is small and plain-looking, but upon entering the dilapidated, run-down looking building you quickly learn not to judge the book by its cover. Inside, Jeonghan picks up a fluffy hot pink scarf with a wince, and you can’t help but laugh.

“You should try that one on, actually. It matches your mean girl vibe,” you point out, digging through the bin where he found the scarf in question.

“I like mean girl better than snob.” He slings the scarf around his neck. He'd decided to trade in his white button-up for the tie-dye you got from Walmart, but not before proclaiming that it was only because he needed clean clothes to wear. “It sounds more like a phase that way.”

“It doesn’t fit as well though,” you say, bringing out a sequined shirt. “Ooh, try this one. The disco vibes would make you a hit at the local club.”

“Thirty years ago, maybe,” he grumbles, but adds it to the cart. “Can’t you look for something more…”

“Boring?”

“Classy,” he finishes with a pointed look.

You grin. “As my lord pleases,” you announce, and hold up a plain brown t-shirt. Jeonghan arches his eyebrows, looking mildly surprised and skeptical, until you turn it around to reveal the Twilight logo with the faces of the main trio plastered below it. “Doth thou find this to thy liking, good sir?”

There’s an expression of part disgust, part enjoyment (and is that a glimpse of fondness you catch in his eye?) on his face. “Verily, fair maiden. It is to my utmost satisfaction,” he replies, a smile playing on his lips. “And it would be dost, not doth.”

“Very well.” You drop the shirt into the cart and straighten, grin unwavering. “Let us look around.”

He offers you his arm, and you hesitate only a millisecond before taking it. “Shall we?”

You nod, keeping the smile in place. “We shall.”

The two of you end up staying in the store until it closes, losing track of time as Jeonghan models different outfits you throw together—“This one has a dick drawn on the back.” “I know, right?”—and bring to him in the changing rooms. It’s not entirely a waste—he actually ends up finding some decent clothes, which you make him pack into a hello kitty backpack, and you buy the heart-shaped sunglasses that manage to catch your attention. By the time you come out and agree to get an unhealthy dinner from a McDonald’s drive-thru, it’s almost nine, but you’re on a dopamine high that you know is going to keep you up for a long while.

Also, you kind of don’t want to go to sleep. Going to sleep means finding a cheap place to stay, with vacancies, during tourist season, which means you’re probably only going to find a single bed. After all you’ve done to keep an invisible barrier between the two of you today (which is to say: not much) you don’t trust yourself enough to try to risk sleeping in the same bed again.

Jeonghan seems to have had the same idea, so you end up taking mini naps while switching with him to drive all night to the next destination. Most of the night, at least. It’s about four in the morning when you realize you’re beginning to nod off in the driver’s seat, so you pull over and nudge Jeonghan awake.

“I don’t think going on is good for our health,” you tell him seriously.

He’s still half-asleep, but he bestirs himself at your words, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of a closed fist. “Uh, okay,” he mutters, opening his eyes wide and blinking the sleep out of them. “Why?”

“It’s irresponsible,” you insist. “You know, from a road safety perspective. Also, I almost drove us into a tree.”

That wakes him up quick. “What do you suggest, then?” he asks, sitting up. “Sleeping in the car?”

“Well,” you begin, unsure, “yeah?”

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.”

“No we won’t,” you whisper back, then clear your throat, not sure why you’re whispering. “Body heat.”

Jeonghan puts his face in his hands for a few seconds, then exhales deeply. “Okay,” he mutters savagely, dragging his fingers down his face. He looks up at you, and there’s a languid sharpness in his eyes that makes you squirm in your seat. “Four hours,” he says. “Don’t complain later if you can’t take it.”

You try for a scoff to hide your discomposure, but end up yawning instead. “Whatever,” you murmur, putting your forearm against the wheel and leaning your face against it. It’s still dark out, and you are freezing a little bit, but the dull orange light that lights up the interior of the car makes it feel slightly warmer. “It’s not like we have anything worth stealing.”

Jeonghan lounges against the passenger seat. He’s still wearing the stupid tie-dye, and the orange of the interior lights have washed out the peach in his shirt. The rest of him is bathed in the same color, making his skin look like it’s been licked by fire. You watch him undo the seatbelt buckle with hooded eyes, curling your fingers around the steering wheel to contain yourself. Even as he climbs into the backseat, you don’t move, eyes still fixed on him.

Would you have reached for him if you didn’t remember every word he said that day? Maybe you should talk about what happened, to clear the air at least. You try to think of how that would go. Jeonghan, you would start, about what happened—

“Are you coming or not?” Jeonghan asks. He leans forward, beckoning you with a crooked finger, and your gaze glides over the collarbone that peeks out from just below his neck. His voice is breathy and low, making something twang in your gut. You pull yourself up quickly, and follow him before you can change your mind. Jeonghan pulls out a few of his clothes from the backpack to cushion the seat. The space is small, cramped, and smells like cheese, but you think about none of those things except the heat of his body against yours. This is, undoubtedly, the most terrible idea you’ve had so far.

“This is a terrible idea,” you voice, as he pulls an oversized shirt over your legs and leans back. You’re not half as sleepy as you were mere moments ago. The comfort is so deeply unsettling that you feel like you’d rather nap in a bush.

“As I said,” he murmurs, gaze darting to your lips for a millisecond. You gulp. He looks like he’s made of honey and marmalade. “Do you want to turn off the light?”

“So passer-bys don’t think we’re fucking in the back of the car?” A nervous laugh bubbles up your throat like an uncorked Coke bottle, the regret following the words as soon as they come out. You glance up at him, pulse jumping, but his eyes are already closed. “Oh. Um. I’ll turn them off.”

It doesn’t take long for Jeonghan’s breaths to even out, but you lie awake for a long time, listening to your own heartbeat. It’s long past ten a.m. before either of you wakes up.

You spend the next few days doing what you do best—wasting time. This was what you’d planned originally, doing absolutely nothing and deciding destinations on the road, but it was supposed to be with someone who knew you well. While you have no doubt that Jeonghan had managed to puzzle out every part of you before, you're no longer the same pedantic, rule-abiding perfectionist that he probably remembers. You think you’ve changed a lot since you last saw him, and since a major part of that owes itself to him not being in your life any more, you don’t know how to adjust your relationship to that change.

There’s a day you spend most of at a microbrewery, where you manage to snag a guided tour to the home brewing process and Jeonghan develops a taste for fruit beers. Another where you trek up the mountains at a national park just to watch the sunset, sitting on a rock with your sore legs and sharing an artisanal. Once you spend the whole day at the pier.

“There.” You point at a highway, licking the side of your strawberry ice cream (Jeonghan takes the mint). “That’s the road I took while following this stupid underground band on their tour. Didn’t even like them that much, but these guys convinced me, and it turned out to be kind of fun. Sort of like a grown-up camping trip.”

Jeonghan squints at where you’re pointing, then shakes his head. “So that’s why you were so confident about sleeping overnight in a car in the desert.”

“S’not that bad.” You shrug. “I thought it would be like a new experience, you know, and that’s where I got this idea about the road trip in the first place. I don’t think Joshua expected me to suggest something so…careless.”

He’s silent for a long moment. You glance at him sideways, and clutch the bear plushie you won at the ring toss. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks at length.

“Never,” you reply quietly. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you thought.

Every location is fun at first before your not-relationship gets in the way, slowly chipping away at your sanity like a heavy-handed ax. You swear you’ve barely touched alcohol, but soon the days begin to blur together, and by the time you get anywhere near the beach you don’t even know what day it is.

Saturday, your phone says.

You swipe ignore on Joshua’s sixteenth call in the past few days, this time not even bothering to shoot him a text in its stead. It’s late in the afternoon, and you’re lying on your stomach on an extremely soft mattress in a fancy hotel, ankles crossed in the air as you read an old copy of Gone Girl that you borrowed from Mina in case you got bored.

Or you were reading it. You press your lips together as you finish reading the same paragraph for the seventh time without actually absorbing any of it, and sigh. Jeonghan reaches over and flicks the cover before leaning back. “Female rage, huh?” he asks, settling back against the pillows. “Should I be concerned?”

The colors of the sunset seep in through the slits between the blinds. You look up at him, noting his watchful gaze, the controlled set of his mouth. Somehow you feel more resentful than wary. “I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and jut your chin out, looking at him upside down. “Should you?”

He doesn’t give up. “Are you angry?”

Your fingers coil more tightly around the book. You match his stare for another second before propping yourself up on your elbow and going back to the text. “No,” you reply after a second, still with your back to him.

“I think you are.”

You throw your head back, irritated, and set the book back down on the bed. “Why would I be angry?” you ask, turning your face in his direction. “I’m just tired. That’s all. It’s too hot to do anything anyway, we can just go out after the sun goes down.”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push you on the subject, and you’re relieved. The truth is that you’ve been feeling irritated and guilty and rash ever since you woke up, but don’t want to give yourself the chance to do something stupid.

“Where do you want to go today?” he asks instead.

You frown, squeezing the bridge of your nose between a forefinger and thumb. “I don’t know,” you repeat. “Maybe nowhere. Do nothing.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “What were you planning to do with Joshua?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, all of that went out the window the second he broke his damned leg,” you snap. Then you pull back with a wince. “Shit. Sorry. I think I’m getting a headache.”

He doesn’t say anything, only offers you a glass of water, which you accept with a quiet thanks. It’s not going to help, though, you know that; your headache has deeper roots than that. The water is lukewarm, and you gulp the water down, spilling half of it over your mouth and down your shirt. “Maybe we can go somewhere you want,” you say, pursing your lips into the best smile you can muster. “You know, this was for the both of us.”

“I know,” Jeonghan replies, monotonous. “You’re getting a nosebleed.”

“What? Oh, fuck.” You hurriedly put the glass down on a side table and head to the washroom. Sure enough, when you look into the mirror, your upper lip is coated in crimson.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself again, and bend over the basin. The sound of running water almost drowns out Jeonghan’s footsteps, so you jump a bit when you hear his voice.

“Let’s go to a club,” he says. You straighten, holding a napkin to your nose, and glance back at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Sounds like you need to get drunk,” he says, shrugging.

Your lips part. “Okay.” You turn and grab another napkin. “Sure, yeah, let’s go.”

The teeming throngs of people seem to envelope you, like a piece of paper folded over and over. The air in the nightclub is stale but cold, with undercurrents of sour sweat and sweet coke syrup. You wouldn’t call yourself a stranger to this scene, but for some reason, it feels foreign.

You weave your way through the crowd on the dance floor, an untouched glass in your hand. Although the whole ordeal had been Jeonghan’s idea, he’d disappeared less than ten minutes after you came, no doubt off buying pretty girls drinks. Being seen with you would probably ruin his night, but at least someone’s living their single life to the fullest.

You, on the other hand, have not been having fun at all. It’s not entirely unexpected, since the whole reason you’d said yes to the idea was because you’d felt bad about snapping at him. Usually, you go drinking to unwind after a stressful week, but today you just can’t seem to get into it. You suspect it’s because you’re alone. The music is loud and heavy and while you remember noting that it’s one of your favorite songs, all you can hear right now is the bass. You feel it in your skull and your teeth and jarring all up your sciatic nerve, sending little jolts through your spine. If you didn’t have a headache before, you’re definitely close to getting one now.

Someone brushes past you, and you almost spill the drink in your hand all over the dress. Annoyed, you turn to snap, but they’re already gone by the time you’ve turned around. You sigh, massaging your temple with your free hand, and sit down at the first table you see, placing the glass with the red drink sloshing around inside. The pulsating lights make the surface of the liquid flash, turning it orange and pink and even green. You don’t even remember what it is supposed to be.

With a deep sigh, you pull the glass off the table and nurse it in your lap, head dropping from exhaustion. Maybe if you had someone to dance with you, but your choleric disposition has a habit of chasing people away, and tonight you’ve dialed it up by about a hundred.

A shadow looms over you, blocking the lights, and the color winks out of the drink in your lap. You look up with a glower, ready to chastise what is undoubtedly another hopelessly drunk guy looking to hit on single girls, but falter when you manage to make out the man’s features.

Jeonghan’s blonde hair looks lilac in the lighting. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s got that white shirt on again, but the lights have bled into it like with your drink, turning it different colors. For a moment, neither of you move, him looking down at you and you matching his stare from the seat.

“Are you drunk?”

You shake your head mutely.

If he doubts your honesty, he doesn’t show it. “Wanna get out of here?”

It’s stupid, but you feel bad. You’ve never known him to be into the whole party scene, but maybe he’s gotten different hobbies since you split up, and you feel like you’re taking that away from him. “Don’t you want to stay?” you ask, setting the glass on the small table. “I know the way back.”

He offers you a small smile. “You know how I feel about places like this,” he answers as you prepare to leave. Then why did you suggest it in the first place? you want to ask, but dare not utter a word. “Well then—” He offers you a hand, the smile softening— “my lady?”

His voice is low, but you hear it like an arrow singing through the noise. “As my lord pleases,” you murmur with an incline of your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you take his hand.

Jeonghan tugs you through the crowd, his grip gentle yet firm. You pull yourself closer to him, marveling at how the sea of people seems to part before him, like he’s a warm knife going through butter. “You should’ve told me if you didn’t want to come,” he yells back at you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you explain, wrapping an arm around yourself as the two of you step out into the night air. It’s much colder outside even with the crowd, and you barely manage to suppress a shiver. “I thought it might be—fun.”

“But it wasn’t?”

You shake your head stiffly, shoulders raised against the late night chill. It’s only then that you realize your right hand is still intertwined with his, with you almost hanging off his arm. Flushing, you extract it quickly, folding your arms across your chest. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

You can’t see his face, but you imagine him burning holes into the side of your face. But he only nods.

Back at the hotel, you lean against the basin in the washroom, staring at yourself in the foggy mirror. Your face looks back at you from the parts where you wiped off the mist with the heel of your palm, smokey-eyed, your makeup smudged. The cold ceramic seems to cut into your hands, but you’re grateful for it.

With the bathroom door left ajar, you can hear Jeonghan in the connecting room. “Sorry about ruining your night,” you offer with the most apologetic tone you can summon, but your heart feels as numb as your fingertips. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you hear him say, his voice feeling like it’s coming from a tunnel. You know exactly what’s gotten into you though.

You swallow against the hard knot of dryness that has lodged itself in your throat. Your head is pounding, and you feel like something is splitting you apart from the inside, like a block of ice in your chest that refuses to melt. Am I really that cold inside? Throughout this trip, you’ve found yourself wishing multiple times that the distance between you and Jeonghan didn’t feel so great, but now the thought overwhelms you, washing over you like a riptide, and you feel like you’s gotten into you to sea.

You think about just giving in, but you want to preserve some semblance to self respect. Although none of your concerns feel grounded—Jeonghan’s been the perfect gentleman since after you broke down on him. The memory of your last argument eight—now nine—months ago, his harsh words cutting you down, they all feel so far away. So unreal. You wonder if you imagined breaking up.

“I shouldn’t act so immature, right?” you wonder aloud, and spin around to face him. Jeonghan’s standing just outside the bathroom, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, and blinks at your question. “I mean, we’re not in high school anymore.”

His brow twitches, like he’s about to frown. “You’re not acting immature.”

You feel slightly hysterical. There’s exactly one thing you want from him—a reaction. Even though you know it’s only going to make things worse. “You don’t think so?” you ask, very quietly.

The frown finally manifested itself on his face. “Are you drunk?” he asks again, enunciating each word slowly and carefully.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jeonghan.” There’s a wild edge to your voice that has him tilting his head. “Why are you so—so—” Blank. Unaffected. Maddening. “Calm?”

The frown flickers away, and once again, he goes back to looking as unemotional as an alabaster statue. Just as beautiful, driving you insane with a feeling that you can’t quite put into words. “What would you rather have me be?”

One second you’re leaning against the doorframe, fingernails gouging into the wood, and the next second you’re on him, reaching out like you’re about to claw his face off. Before you know it, you’re kissing Jeonghan with all the viciousness of a bite.

Your hands grip his shoulders, then slide up to his neck and down to his upper back. You can feel his shirt creasing where your nails dig into it, so desperately that you think they might leave crescent-shaped scars. “What do you think?” you hiss into his ear as he stumbles, stepping back to steady himself, his hands coming to your hips. You lean into him, returning to his lips, and then he’s kissing you back.

Jeonghan slides his hand over the diaphanous material of your dress, reaching up to slide into your hair, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you as close to himself as humanly possible. His arm crushes you against himself as his lips part against yours, kissing you like he was breathing from you, as desperate as if he were drowning.

It’s as if he’s come alive under your touch, so different from the unemotional front he’d displayed just seconds earlier. His hands roam your body, exploring, tracing, remembering. You open yourself to him, letting every doubt and second thought be washed away by the tide of emotion that rages inside you. Jeonghan tastes like strawberries, his lips soft and sweet, and you feel like putty in his hands, but you still manage to push him into the bed. You’re in his lap now, legs on either side of him, slowly and teasingly tracing the roof of his mouth with the tip of your tongue.

Jeonghan’s hands travel up your waist to your breasts, and you press your lips to the junction of his jaw and neck, right over the pulse. He moans into your mouth, and you feel hot all over—the good kind of hot, the kind that makes you feel like you’re standing in his fire, sweating harder to feel more keenly the wind against your skin. It starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads to your core, your chest that’s flush against his, your hands as you pin his shoulders to the mattress. You kiss him again, hands moving to his chest as you start to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeonghan breathes, covering your hands with his. You make an impatient noise at the back of your throat, but pause, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling him. “You’re not drunk.”

You give him a black look.

“Okay, okay.” His breaths are coming in pants, each as ragged as the last. “I…I don’t have a condom—”

“I do,” you cut him off in the middle. He gives you a questioning look, and you huff. “I was going to get laid, okay? One way or another.”

His lips part, and for a long moment, no sound comes out of them. “Are you sure?” he asks lamely.

You stare at him, flabbergasted. “What do you think?” you demand again. He’s such a sight under you, with a half-unbuttoned shirt and swollen lips, that you’re having trouble stringing words together. “Jeonghan—I don’t know what it is that’s holding you back, or—or if you just don’t want to have sex with me, but—”

“Not like this,” he interrupts. There’s a softness to his voice, even as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Your hand twitches where it’s lying on his chest. “I mean. You’re not in the right state of mind—”

You’re incredulous. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Jeonghan,” you say, petulance creeping into your voice as you struggle to maintain your composure. “I’m upset and frustrated and I really need this, okay?” Your voice cracks just slightly, but it’s enough for the air to get knocked out of him.

Some part of you tells you not to do this. To apologize, maybe laugh it off with a shitty joke about getting rid of the tension, act like you don’t want to open him up and climb into him. Sex has never been the solution to your problems. But you’re on a mean bad decision streak, so you just bite down on your lip, swallowing your feelings.

“Please touch me,” you whimper, and Jeonghan takes in a sharp breath, briefly closing his eyes before moving to oblige.

His hands go back to your waist, but this time he flips your positions. He grasps the hem of your dress, and you stretch your arms, letting him tug it up and off your frame. You watch as his eyes rove over you, and his pupils darken, swallowing the warm brown of his eyes. Jeonghan leans down next to your ear, and you feel the dent in the mattress next to your head where his palm presses into it. “Remember,” he says, as your stomach flutters weakly, “you asked for this.”

Jeonghan’s knee nudges yours to part your thighs, and the next thing you feel is two of his fingers pressing against the already-damped seat of your panties. “Didn’t expect to be so wet already,” he murmurs, and your face heats up like he toom a match to it. “Is that what you meant by frustrated?” Wordlessly, you arch against him, eager. “Hips,” he commands, and you raise your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your legs, where you agitatedly kick them off your ankles.

You suck in an anticipatory breath as his fingers push against your unclothed core. He doesn’t even need to look for your clit—the pad of his thumb is pressed against the bundle of nerves a second later, rubbing circles into it. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back, clenching your thighs around his arm. “Oh god,” you gasp. “Oh god oh fuck—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale to grab his forearm, digging your fingers into it as he flicks a finger against your clit. “You’re so sensitive,” Jeonghan remarks, a smug smirk painted on his face. “Always were. That’s what made playing with you so much fun.”

You open your eyes just to narrow them at him, panting. “Oh, finally, there he is,” you drawl breathlessly. “The resident devil of—Jeonghan!”

He has the gall to laugh as your entire body jerks in response to his middle finger pushing past your folds and into your heat. “Admit it. You like me better that way,” he counters, adding another finger inside you. You arch your back, sucking his fingers deeper inside your cunt as he curls the digits in your core.

“I did admit it,” you breathe. It’s astounding, how quickly the two of you fall back into the familiar play, trading words back and forth like you’ve been doing this all your life. His thumb swipes down against your slit, collecting your wetness and massaging it back into your clit. You buck against his hand, mewling. “Fuck, Jeonghan, pleasepleaseplease—”

Watching him like this, you suddenly remember that no matter how mild-mannered he may seem to the untrained eye, Jeonghan is neither calm nor reserved. He is sanguine, a hunter in the night, smelling blood from a mile away. And you've always been his favorite plaything.

“There’s a good girl,” he praises, but his fingers pull away a second later. You bemoan the loss of the friction, desperately rubbing your aching thighs together for any sort of relief. Jeonghan’s fingers dig into the inside of your thighs, prying them apart firmly. You begin to protest, but he quells you with a look. “But I can’t let you have it just yet.”

You’re panting. “Fuck you.”

He only smiles. “Condom.”

You gesture towards the bedside table with a tilt of your chin. “Second drawer,” you choke out, feeling like someone’s set a fire to the base of your brain, cutting off your ability to form coherent thoughts. Jeonghan retrieves it, waving the small square packet in the air as if to further provoke you. You settle back onto the sheets, waiting for him to put it on, but instead he leans his weight back against you, playfully nipping at your collarbone. You grit your teeth, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” You hiss, and start unbuttoning his shirt hastily.

“Well, I tried being nice, and you hated that,” he murmurs against the base of your throat, sending vibrations through your sternum. You fling open his shirt, and he takes it off fully, balling it up and throwing it to some dark corner of the room. “Aren’t you hurrying too much?” he says, but when you roll down against his hips, the bulge straining against the seat of his pants is unmistakable.

“Aren’t you talking too much?” you fire back, and he chuckles. You hear the sound of the packet tearing and the subsequent unzipping of his pants. Jeonghan rubs the head of his cock against your slick heat, almost making you sob, and pushes it in.

Your fingers claw against his back when he slowly rolls his hips into yours, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “I forgot how good you felt,” he rasps, sidling his hands under your arms and pulling them off him. The heel of his palms skims your forearm, reaching up to meet your wrist. When he presses his fingertips against the palm of your hand, you open up to him like a flower in bloom, letting him twine your fingers with his in a slow, decisive motion.

The head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot, and your mind goes blank with bliss. Jeonghan says your name like a prayer as he pushes deeper into you, harder, and the feeling of hot-and-cold pleasure stirs in your abdomen. His pace quickens, hips snapping faster against yours, and you begin to feel dizzy and delirious.

You gasp his name, and he shudders as he breathes out, all but falling against you. His fingers tighten around yours as he moves, the tip of your nose nudging his, his forehead cool and damp with sweat where it meets yours. He draws your orgasm out, still fucking into you as you reach your climax. You call out his name as you ride out your high, and his face twists with desire so devastating that it looks almost like pain. He thrusts into you once, twice, only a few more times before he comes, almost collapsing on top of you when he finishes. The pent-up frustration is gone, you realize as you lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, along with the misery and confusion and anger.

You clean yourself off in the bathroom in silence, as he wipes off your makeup with a gentleness that you’d almost forgotten. Neither of you speak, but the silence is heavy and comfortable like a winter blanket. A voice at the back of your head is screaming at you about consequences, but it’s small and tin-like and easy enough to tune out in the face of Jeonghan’s lips brushing against your temple.

Plenty of time for regret in the morning.

And, oh boy, does the regret hit like a fucking truck.

You’re the first one up, waking to the feeling of soft blankets on your bare skin and Jeonghan’s sleeping face just inches from yours. Startled, you sit up, the strap of your bra slipping off one shoulder.

Then you’re slipping off the covers and making a beeline for the bathroom, stopping only to grab your phone off the bedside table before locking the door behind you. You lean against it heavily as your legs seem to give out, breathing hard as if you just woke up from a nightmare.

You slept with your ex last night. The one thing your friends with active dating lives told you never to do. And it was all your idea.

Fuck.

Still trying to steady yourself, you sit down heavily on the edge of the toilet seat, placing your head in your hands. It was a stupid decision, and you know that—hell, you’d known that going into it—but now it’s time to deal with the aftermath. Jeonghan himself is going to wake up in no time, and you don’t even want to think about how he’s going to react.

You try to think of someone smarter than you, but after your actions last night, the bar proves to be pretty low. Your first thought is Joshua, but you feel even more like shit when you think of calling him, so reject that option out of hand. Someone who’d know what to do, you think to yourself as you shakily dial the number on your phone, fingers trembling.

She picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey, girliepop,” Mina greets in a bright, peppy voice, as your shoulders sag with relief. “I feel like I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s up? How’s home?”

You don’t waste a second. “I did something really, really bad.”

A pause. “Do you need help hiding a body?”

“What? No. I slept with Jeonghan.” You cover your mouth, briefly closing your eyes. Saying it out loud makes it sound even worse. “I’m so screwed.”

“The hot ex-boyfriend? Oh, honey, don’t worry, that’s a mistake we all make at least once in our lives,” she says sympathetically. “Were you drunk?”

You squint. “No…”

“Okay,” she says slowly, and you wince. “Do you…want to do it again?”

At that, you pause. Do you want to do it again? You hadn’t even thought of it before this. “I mean…” You trail off, doubtful. “The sex was pretty great, but…”

You can imagine her twirling a lollipop stick between her fingers, sucking thoughtfully on the candy. “I don’t know, I’m gonna need a lot more context,” she asks finally. “Why did you guys break up? How long were you together? What kind of person is he? It depends on a lot of things.” Another pause, and you can almost see her raising her eyebrows at you, like, well? “You gotta give me something to go on here.”

You try to think of an answer, but every thought feels muddled, like you’ve reached peak brain capacity. “Um,” you start, haltingly, “we have a lot of history, I guess.”

She hums, which sounds like a muted buzz through the line. “Like what? Childhood best friend type of history? On-and-off kind of history?”

You close your eyes, focusing intently. “Um…well…we have known each other since we were in grade school. And we dated for most of high school, and almost two years after that. Then we…we broke up in October, last year.”

“Why?”

That’s a loaded question. You pass a hand over your face, trying to think of how you can explain it. You remember there being so many reasons for it, but now that you’re trying to remember them, not a single coherent-sounding explanation presents itself. “It’s complicated?”

Mina tuts. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is, babe.”

“I’m so confused,” you lament, biting your lip. You try to explain the situation as best as you can, how you decided to ditch your plans and go on a fuckass road trip with your ex. Everything comes out like a barrage: all the doubts you’ve had about your relationship with Jeonghan, the constant second-guessing yourself, all your worries about his inconsistent behavior. By the time you’re done, Mina’s gone silent on the other side.

She doesn’t say anything for a long time, so you listen to the soft crackling of her breathing mixing with the sounds of traffic coming in through the tiny window on the opposing wall. “Oh, honey,” comes her fizzy voice from the speaker finally. “Now I wish I’d convinced you to go on that blind date.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah. It’s just… Every sensible bone in my body is telling me I’ve made some kind of mistake, that I’ve crossed some invisible line, but it was so easy,” you tell her. “Last night, when we—it felt like old times. As if nothing had ever happened. And now I’m wondering if that’s what I’ve wanted all this time.”

“I almost wish you’d come to me with a murder to cover up, because at least I’d be able to help you then,” she replies. “But if you think that maybe this is what you want, and if he wants the same thing, then you can still work it out, you know? You’re a smart girl. You can figure out what you want.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” you murmur, using your pinky to trace a crescent into your bare knee. “But thanks.”

Her grin is crystal-clear in your mind. “I’ve got faith in you.”

“That makes one of us,” you quip, and she laughs as you hang up.

The call didn’t help much, but you’re glad to have gotten some things off your chest. The narrow walls of the bathroom don't feel so suffocating anymore. All right. You pull your knees up decisively, straightening your spine. It’s my problem to fix now, you think. Even if you don’t feel calm, you have to at least act like you are.

Taking a deep breath, you unlatch the door and step outside, closing it slowly behind yourself. As you’d thought, Jeonghan is already up and dressed. Well, kind of. He has his boxers on, and the shirt from last night, crumpled and still unbuttoned. You stare, frozen in place, as he turns and notices you. A beaming smile spreads across his face.

“I went ahead and ordered room service,” he says by way of greeting. “Considering it’s past twelve and absolutely boiling outside, I thought we might stay in for brunch instead. I hope you like pasta, ” he says, shrugging. Then he notices the look on your face. “Is something wrong?”

You blink slowly, as if coming out of a daze. “Something wrong?” you echo, wondering if you sound as bewildered as you feel. “Something…Jeonghan.”

His eyebrows arch. “Yeah?”

“We had sex,” you say slowly.

“We—yes.” He nods, slowly at first, but then more rapidly, until he looks like a bobblehead. “Yeah, but—I mean, we used protection, and we talked about it before, kind of, and I thought it was fine, you know, because—” He’s rambling. You’re beginning to realize he’s not as nonchalant as he appeared a moment ago. “At least we didn’t have sex very publicly in, in the motel, or the car, or—”

It’s like a strange tranquility has descended over you. Jeonghan swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he looks anxious. You haven’t seen him anxious in so long.

It feels like the roles have been flipped. You know that’s not quite true, and your poise is only temporary, but at least he’s not giving you unreadable looks every time you try to show vulnerability, tripping you up on your own words. You just hope you’re not going to use this opportunity to do something stupid again.

“Jeonghan,” you interrupt. Mina hadn’t really given you any clear-cut counsel, but it seems her reassurance had been all you needed. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

‘No strings attached’ sounds weightless in your mouth, but the words seem to sink like stones into your mind.

Still, now that at least the sexual tension is out of the way, you feel as unburdened as those girls in sanitary pad ads. Jeonghan’s inner navigator must be in touch with his good-for-nothing side, because he turns out to be absolute magic with finding amazing out-of-the-way places. The two of you go off-road for a while, but get lost so you decide to stick to what you could identify on the map. There’s another day spent walking around at a doll museum and pointing out dolls that you thought looked like people you both know.

It feels a bit silly, running around with Jeonghan all the time, but it’s the happiest you’ve been in months. You take baths together, and sometimes you go out for ice cream, and despite some of the lewd activities involved, it feels as sweet and innocent as kids playing house.

After the first time your motel room neighbor bangs on your shared wall to ask you to be quieter during sex, you decide that sticking to places with reliably thick walls is the way to go. That’s how you find out that Jeonghan has developed a taste for long baths.

You’re rummaging around inside your suitcase, looking for the paperback you borrowed from your roommate, untouched since the day you stopped reading it right in the middle. “Jeonghan!” you call, overturning a pair of pajamas. Even in a thin robe, you can feel the heat almost radiating off the floor. “Did you see my book? I’m kind of worried that I left it somewhere.”

No response.

Frowning, you stand, looking at the cream-painted door on the opposing wall. It’s firmly shut, and has been that way for the past hour or so, not a sound escaping from inside. You cross the room and check the handle, not too surprised when it swings open.

One glance inside gives it away. Jeonghan looks at you with displeasure, only his head poking out from behind the side of the bathtub. Well, that and the copy of Gone Girl you’ve been looking for the past half-hour, clasped in a long-fingered hand, his elbow propped against the lip of the porcelain tub. “Do you mind?” the perpetrator asks.

You place your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “You’ve been in here for over an hour,” you tell him. “At this rate your body is going to turn into an overripe raisin. Also, that’s my book.”

He turns the book over to regard it. “I thought you weren’t reading it.”

“I wasn’t. Emphasis on was.” You rest your hand on the door handle. “There are other people who want to take a bath, you know.”

“Aw, I was just looking for some entertainment.” He flashes a grin at you. “But if you have a better idea…”

You roll your eyes, but unfasten the robe anyway. Jeonghan’s eyes follow your every move, pupils blown wide. He places a cheek on his arm, eyes half-mast as you slip the robe off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor at your feet.

“Nothing underneath, huh?” he muses. “Have I been out-maneuvered?”

You ignore that. “Move over,” you say shortly.

“Don’t need to ask me twice.”

(Later, when you’re lying on the bed after having managed to wrestle the book away from him, Jeonghan brushes his fingers against the sliver of exposed skin under your shirt. “Don’t even try,” you warn him, after smacking his hand with the spine of the book.

“I thought you wanted to do something ‘wild’,” he says, making air quotes with his hands. You smack him again.

“Not everything is about sex,” you remind him, not really meaning it.

“‘Everything in the world is about sex except sex.’” he quotes. “‘Sex is about power.’”

You roll onto your side, letting the book fall shut as your forearm hits the mattress. “You’re so full of shit, Yoon Jeonghan,” you tell him, getting a razor-sharp grin in response. But you still let him kiss you a moment later.)

By the time you finally reach the ocean, the air conditioner has been broken for two days, so when you feel the fingers of the first evening breeze sneak in through the lowered top of the window and run themselves through your hair, you almost stop the car there and then.

Jeonghan stops you, reminding you that if you get off you’ll have to walk a pretty long time before you actually get to the beach. You stay put, but when you do get to the beach you’re the first out of the car, standing spreadeagle against the flow to feel the wind on each and every inch of your skin, plastering your clothes to your frame.

“This is so much better than that stupid air conditioner,” you sigh. Jeonghan’s still fishing out that Hello Kitty backpack that contains your towels and sunscreen, so you deign to wait for him instead of going off on your own.

Something pink and plasticky covers your vision. “Here.” He grins, settling the heart-shaped sunglasses on your face. “Now you can finally use these,” he says, and turns to head off.

You fix the sunglasses before following after him. The sand is soft under your feet, shifting to accommodate the shape of your feet as you step over it. You pull your sandals off, tucking your fingers under the bands and opting to carry them at your side so you can feel the grains on your soles.

“I thought there would be more people here,” your not-boyfriend comments.

You look around. A kid is building a sandcastle near a couple that looks over him, turning over buckets to deposit clumps of wet sand to shape them into towers. A bit further away, a head wearing sunglasses pokes out of the ground as its giggling companion packs more sand over the body. Jeonghan’s right; the crowd is tamer than you expected, but it’s probably because it’s getting late and the weather is about to turn icy in no time.

“I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” he says as you reach the shore. The wind tousles his hair, flapping his shirt around his torso, and he squints against the saline breeze. “Kind of forgot what it feels like.”

You hum contentedly, watching the tiny waves lap at your feet. “When I was a kid, my mom told me I had to dig my feet in before the tide came in, or else I would be carried away by the waves.”

He snorts. “I know. Your mom told me the same thing.”

“Right,” you smile.

Jeonghan bends to place his hands in the sand in front of him, letting the water wash over them. “Cold,” he says.

“You know, I did almost get washed out to sea once,” you remember. “Swam too far. There was salty water in my mouth and ears and the ground felt like it was made of hands, trying to drag me down further. My uncle told me that when they finally fished me out, my head was wrapped in kelp. He thought that telling me that would traumatize me, but I just kept swimming out again and again.”

“Stubborn and proud,” he observes. “That sounds like you.”

“Does it?” You grin, bending to scoop some of the water into your palms, and sling it off your fingertips to splash it into his face before he can realize what you’re doing. Jeonghan sputters, stumbling in the sand, and comes up with an indignant hey!

Laughing, you turn to run, and glance back to see him discarding the Hello Kitty bag to chase after you. “It’s the beach, cut me some slack!” you yell back at him. He doesn’t respond, but when he does catch you, it’s around the middle, and his tackle flings both of you into the water, you still laughing. You wrestle unsuccessfully with him for another second before coming up for air, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.

“No fair,” you complain, but the smile that splits your face is as bright as the sun.

“No fair?” he repeats, expression indignant. “You started it.”

“Okay, but now we’re both wet.” You spit some water out of your mouth. Sure enough, your clothes are drenched, and so are his. Jeonghan staggers to his feet, pulling you up with him. His pale blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, darker where it’s wet, curling at the back of his neck. “And not in the fun way.”

“Who says this way isn’t fun?” He kicks some water at you, and you raise your arms to shield your face. Offering only a glare in retaliation, you turn, wading a little further out so the water is up to your waist. “Are you planning to get washed out again?”

“Hilarious,” you call back without turning. The sun is low in the sky, turning the ocean the colors of fire. Jeonghan comes up behind you and you close your eyes, breathing it all in.

The water tickles your waist where your shirt billows up, and the breeze cuts deliciously sharp on your damp skin, but you only shiver when Jeonghan traces a map on the exposed skin of your back.

You don’t stay in the water for long, dragging yourselves up to the shoreline to make sure you mostly dry off when the sun is still up. Jeonghan’s hair slowly curls as it dries, and he tries to comb the sand out with his fingers to no avail.

“I’m gonna need a nice hot bath after this,” he complains, carding a hand through his hair. “It’s all fun and games going to the beach until you’re digging sand out of your body for the next three weeks.”

“You take a nice hot bath at every opportunity you get,” you remind him, but you share the sentiment. The retrieved backpack swings off one shoulder, slapping against your side with every step. “That was so much fun, though. I wish we’d just come here in the beginning and stayed.”

“Nothing beats hiking for hours up a mountain just to see a yellow ball come up in the sky. You made me wake up at an ungodly hour for that, too.”

“And I’m not gonna apologize.” You stand back in the final rays of the sun, watching it sink into the horizon. Strips of gold glimmer in the blue-green of the water, shimmering like the surface of a polished jewel. “Sometimes I look at the sun on a regular day and wonder how it can do that.”

Jeonghan hums under his breath. His stance is unhurried, shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets. You lick your lips, feeling the salt sting the raw patches where you’ve managed to break the skin by constantly worrying at it with your teeth.

Now that your mind is beginning to quiet, it’s turning to thoughts of the real world instead. For the last few days, you’ve successfully ignored every single warm tingle or stomach butterfly, every warning sign that came up when you looked at Jeonghan, but casting them aside has only made them weigh heavier on your shoulders.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, you’d told him, but that had felt more like an excuse. Under the guise of only using each other for sex, you’ve been indulging yourself in far more than that, and it’s plain as day for you to see.

“Jeonghan,” you venture in a hushed voice, and he turns to you quizzically. “Do you ever wonder—do you ever think that you’ve made a mistake?”

Instead of answering, he offers you a lopsided smile and extracts his hand from his pocket, letting it hang in the air next to yours. It’s only your knuckles that brush the back of his hand, but you feel the heat all over—on the backs of your shoulders, north of your abdomen, as a constricting circle around your throat.

“I try not to think too much,” he says, catching your fingers lightly when they graze his. You hesitate, but choose not to pull away. “But I know that’s not your strong suit.”

The sky has gone dark. One by one, the artificial lights switch on, bathing the sand in a pale glow. With his tanned skin and platinum hair, Jeonghan looks like a tallow angel in the light, his mouth a soft rosy line curved into a smile like you’re sharing an inside joke. The breeze flows over the water, lifting his shirt up a shade.

Your heart lurches in your chest, but you manage a smile back. He’s probably right and you’re probably overthinking, but you are as helpless in the face of that knowledge as you were without it. As you murmur and you think too little with numb lips, you can't help but wonder what he’s really thinking.

Jeonghan thinks this bar is going to be the death of him.

The Shipwreck Tavern must take its name quite seriously, because it smells exactly like how he imagines the interior of a shipwreck must smell—like fish and rotten wood. The place is filled with tough-looking old people, and the bartender must be a wrestler’s grandma, because her arms are as big as his head. Everything inside the pub looks old and feels old, except the new-looking TV that adorns a wall adjacent to the bar, playing a soccer game that seems like the local pastime, judging from the attention it garners among the tavern’s patrons.

There are probably better places the two of you could’ve gone to, but this was the nearest place he’d been able to find with an outdoor shower, and he could’ve sworn he felt a crab in his pants before. Instead of bothering to look for a place to eat, you’d suggested staying at the same place, and he hadn’t known better than to comply.

Jeonghan takes the drinks he ordered from the bar with a nod of acknowledgement, fighting to keep the smile on his face until it’s out of the bartender’s view. As soon as the old lady with the anchor tattoo on her forearm turns her back, he makes a face, turning away from a fellow customer who frowns disapprovingly at his expression. Jeonghan gives him a helpless look, and begins making his way through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

He knows that you think he’s the more sociable out of the two of you, but he begs to disagree, and the fact that you’re already laughing along with a mean-looking guy with a shaved head is only more proof. You turn slightly to let your eyes glide over the crowd searchingly, stopping when they spot him coming towards you. Something in his chest clenches when he sees your face light up upon seeing him. You wave him over to the table, and he raises the drinks in response.

“You might wanna go slow on these. I think I saw something wiggling in the bottle she poured these drinks from,” he warns as you take the glass from him. You grin, but pay no heed to his warnings, tossing the whole thing back like it’s a regular Tuesday.

“How bad could it be?” Shrugging, you put the drink down and smooth down the front of your skirt, briefly playing with the corner where the slit ends. “Maybe it was like an eel or something.”

“Well, you’re certainly something,” he mutters to himself, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “Why don’t you go ahead and drink mine too, if you’re so fearless? Might find a shark fin in there.”

“Those are too big to fit in a bottle, silly.” You roll your eyes, taking a cue stick leaning against a corner. “Now let’s get this party started,” you purr, bringing the stick up and across the table and positioning yourself behind it.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but doesn’t try to push down the smile that appears on his face. “Okay,” he sighs, coming around the table to your side, leaning so his face is level with yours. “So you want to keep the stick aligned with your line of sight, and try to aim for the easy pockets first.”

You lick your lips, screwing one eye shut to aim. “You underestimating me?”

“No, it’s just to keep your mood up. Now choose your shot.” You survey the layout of the table once before deciding on a target, arranging your stance to aim accordingly. Jeonghan nods. “Okay, good. Line up, and be careful about the angle.”

Placing the stick’s tip near the cue ball, you bend again. “Like this?”

He reaches over, rearranging your hand that’s splayed against the table so your first two fingers make a bridge. “Balance the cue on top of that,” he says, curling an arm around your waist. His fingertips press against the elbow of your cueing arm, stabilizing it. You shiver slightly as if a cool breeze had just blown through, making his own stomach flutter. “That’s it, like that,” he whispers in your ear, enjoying your reaction as you squirm. “Steady, steady…now try.”

Taking a deep breath, you shoot. The cue ball cuts across the dull green surface, bumping into the black ball and sending it rolling into a corner hole. Grinning, you straighten, pumping a fist in the air. “Nice!”

“Yeah, pretty nice.” Jeonghan nods. “Except we’re playing 8-ball pool, which means if you pocket the 8 ball before all the stripes and solids are gone, you lose.”

A despondent boo erupts from the audience watching the soccer match, exactly in sync with your face as it falls. “You didn’t tell me that before,” you say accusingly. “That’s cheating.”

“Good try though,” he acknowledges, taking a sip of his drink. It tastes just as bad as he’s expected. “And I didn’t cheat, I just withheld information.”

“That’s lying.”

“Tomato-tomato.”

You bring up the cue stick, pointing the polished end at his chest. “I’m about to demolish you,” you challenge.

He grins and takes a stick of his own, tapping it against yours. “Bring it on.”

Jeonghan had intended on leaving the second you were done with your food, but you end up staying for more than a few hours as you keep asking for extra rounds despite continually losing. When you finally agree to leave, it’s way past two, and you walk with a giggly, faintly tipsy stupor so he has to support you all the way to the hotel.

Instead of falling into bed immediately upon entering the room, you pull him into the bathroom, crashing your lips against his before he has the chance to let a question pass them. Jeonghan closes his eyes, holding you against him as you wrap your arms around his neck, almost dragging him down the floor as you go limp in his arms. Your back hits the wall with a loud thump, but you still don’t let up. “Someone’s eager,” he says as you press kisses along the line of his jaw, settling his hands on your hips.

You let out a soft breath, bunching up his shirt under your fingers. He leans in to kiss you, but you step back, holding him in place. “I was—do you think we should—”

Someone bangs against the other side of the bathroom wall, making both of you jump. “Message received, damn,” Jeonghan mumbles, turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, you were saying?”

You fumble with your words for a second before seemingly giving up, instead smiling brightly. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Nothing, is it?” He kisses your jaw, and you let out a soft sigh. Your hand drops to his pants, moving to unfasten it, but he stops you. “Shh,” he whispers, brushing his thumb against your lips. “Walls have ears, remember?” he murmurs, as his warm breath fans your face.

You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth, blinking up at him so sweetly that he almost groans. He dips his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, the ghost of his smile against your skin. “We have to be quiet,” he says, lips touching the shell of your ear. “If you behave, I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your efforts.”

Your breath hitches, and you turn your face away, letting out a choking laugh. “Oh yeah? And how are you planning to do that?”

Maintaining eye contact, he sinks to one knee, and slides his hands down from your hips to the back of your thighs. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, and he tugs your skirt up, warm palms skimming the cool skin of your thighs.

“Well, for starters,” he says in a low voice, watching your eyes as they darken, and slips a cold finger just inside the top of the slit in your skirt. “I’m going to make you come on my tongue.”

You watch him with wide eyes, still as a statue. Jeonghan licks a warm line up the inside of your leg, which twitches in response. “Remember, not a sound,” he warns, teeth nipping at your skin.

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

He smiles, and taps at your knee to indicate to you to move it. You swing a leg over his shoulder, adjusting your stance to stabilize yourself. He hooks a thumb into the underside of your panties and pulls it aside, revealing your glistening core in its full glory.

The sight makes his breath catch in his throat. Jeonghan licks his lips, experimentally swiping the tip of his finger along your cunt, and you squeeze his shoulder. “Ticklish?” he asks, and you slide a hand through his hair, giving it an impatient tug. “Always so sensitive,” he tuts, even though the sensation sends a bolt of arousal straight to his dick. “Always had a bite, too.”

“Shut up,” you growl, impatiently pulling his face closer to your core.

“Patience, grasshopper,” he admonishes. He slips the finger between your folds, massaging lazy circles into it, and your grasp on his hair tightens. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

You grit your teeth, but the pause tells him you’re actually considering it. Your giving up so easily would take all the fun out of it, he decides, and without warning, he tilts his head up and closes his lips around your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Your whole body seems to spasm in response, like a puppet that just had its strings pulled taut. Jeonghan grins into your cunt, and increases the pressure on your clit. You whine, rolling your hips against his face, but he holds you in place.

“Not so fast, honey bunny,” he murmurs against your arousal, which only has you straining harder against his hold. “You like that, huh?” he asks, and sinks his index and middle fingers into your hole knuckle-deep. “All those times you called me a silver-tongued devil—how d’you feel about this tongue now?”

As if to prove his point, he laves his tongue leisurely along the entire length of your pussy, making you cry out. “Jeonghan, please,” you moan, and his heartbeat stutters at your desperate pleading. The moment you start begging, he’s a goner. “More—ah—”

He doesn’t even remember that he asked you to be quiet. “Fuck,” Jeonghan snarls, “you know I can’t say no to you, don’t you?” He pulls his fingers out almost entirely, coated in your juices, before thrusting them back inside. He proceeds to bury his face back into your heated cunt, sucking on your swollen clit and finger-fucking you at the same time. You throw your head back, scraping your fingernails against his scalp as he eats you out like a starved man. “No.” he says, pulling away momentarily. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Ngh—please—” Your words come out in broken moans, but Jeonghan scarcely hears them. He scissors you ruthlessly, stretching you out with his fingers, the other hand leaving dents in your skin where it digs into the soft skin of your thigh. Your orgasm is drawing near, he can tell by the way your walls are spasming around him, so he speeds up his pace, licking and suckling in quick succession, pushing you far past the point of satisfaction. “Jeonghan!”

You come with a cry, your eyes rolling back into your head, back arched against the wall. Jeonghan unlatches his lips from yours unwillingly, pulling back to admire the look on your face, hazy with desire.

“Fuck,” you breathe once you’ve come down from the high, chest heaving. You let the back of your head fall against the wall with a light thump. “Where did you learn to do that?”

He shrugs with faked nonchalance, grazing your skin with his teeth as he slips your leg from his shoulder. A glint of satisfaction shines in his eye like an ember sparking in a dead bonfire as he gets to his feet. “I’ve been practicing.”

Your shoulders stiffen, and Jeonghan stops in his tracks. “Right,” you murmur, as alarm bells go off in his head. He regrets the words instantly, and moves to take a step towards you, but you’re already turning away and out of his reach, leaning towards your phone that rests precariously on the basin’s edge. “Oh, wow, it’s getting pretty late. I think we should head to bed.”

Jeonghan bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says softly, stepping back to allow you to slip past him and out the door. Stupid, he thinks, licking the remains of your cum from his lips. “I guess so.”

The next morning, after you finished locking the doors behind yourself, you’d come down to the lobby to find Jeonghan flirting with the receptionist.

He had both his elbows on the table, leaning his weight against it as he gave her his best smile, chuckling at some shitty joke he probably cracked himself. She’s pretty, you’d thought as you saw her smile, flushing as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. He said something else to her, and she giggled, but it had died out quickly when she’d spotted you approaching.

To his credit, Jeonghan dropped his smile as soon as he saw you. You’d deposited the keys, thanking the receptionist with the nicest smile you could manage, but even that wasn’t very nice. He hadn’t said anything as you got to the car, and you feel like shit even though you know he doesn’t owe you an explanation.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid of you to forget that this whole thing was going to be over soon, stupid for caring so much and getting hurt despite yourself, stupid for thinking that Jeonghan would share your concerns. And let’s not forget angry: angry for getting so carried away, especially when you pride yourself on being so careful all the time.

The car hasn’t stopped in hours, not even for a gas refill, and you haven’t had a proper conversation since the drive started except for when Jeonghan tried to offer you a soda.

You’re glad you’re driving, because it gives you an excuse to be silent. Focus on the road. Jeonghan has sensed something off with your mood, but he hasn’t tried to ask you about it, and you don’t know whether to be grateful for him respecting your boundaries or mad for not trying hard enough.

Now that it’s June the skies have begun to turn an angry, burning orange-red before six o’clock instead of remaining a softer bruised purple. You’ve been in the same position for a while although your neck started to hurt some time ago. It’s getting chilly, but not cold enough to roll the window back up, and you’re determined to fill the silence with the whistling wind for as long as you can.

You must’ve jinxed yourself, though, because the silence is broken in seconds. “Just so you know,” Jeonghan starts, tone light and conversational, “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

You tighten your hands around the wheel, staring so hard at the windshield that you’re surprised it hasn’t melted into a puddle of plastic yet. “I don’t care if you did,” you say tersely, trying and failing to sound normal. “It’s none of my business.”

“I was just asking her if she knew any places we could stay nearby,” he continues, instead of giving up. “And as it turns out, there’s this really great—”

“Actually, I think we should go home.” You cut him off demurely, not taking your eyes off the road in front of you, even though there isn’t another vehicle in sight. “My parents are probably worried about where I’ve run off to, and I’ve been kind of a shit friend to Joshua recently.”

Jeonghan’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “That was a choice you made.”

You scoff, rounding on him with a scornful look on your face. “Oh, so you want to talk about choices now?” you ask, voice full of strife. “Remind me again in case I’ve forgotten—it was your choice to have us break up in the first place, wasn’t it?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten, standing out under his skin where they flex. “Oh, come on. You’re just mad about last night and instead of acknowledging that, you’re changing the topic.”

“Okay, yeah, I’m mad,” you admit, “but that’s not why I’m bringing this up, and you know it. I believed you the first time you said anything. We can’t just never talk about what happened nine months ago—you can’t just sweep something that big under the rug and expect things to be fine and fucking dandy.”

“Who cares about something that happened months ago?” he asks angrily.

“Are you serious?” you ask, laughing disbelievingly. A chill is beginning to settle over your skin even as the air simmers at a hundred degrees.

He tugs an opposing sleeve, and throws the other hand up in exasperation. “I don’t see how it matters anymore.”

You stop the car.

Jeonghan opens his mouth, and closes it again. "You know, this whole stopping the car in the middle of the road thing is getting old," he says with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“You don’t see how it matters?” You whip around to look him in the eye, and he shrinks back just a bit. “Jeonghan, you said getting into this relationship was a fucking mistake!”

He stares back at you, unyielding.

“And now you want to act like that never happened?” you press on. “How did you expect this to turn out? That we would be on the road forever, always going nowhere? That you could get away with never addressing all the things you said, just because I never brought it up?” You scoff. “Did you ever give a shit, or was this whole thing just a way to get into my pants?”

Your eyes are burning, and not just from the heat. Jeonghan’s hands are balled up around the seatbelt, the skin around his mouth pulled tight. You don’t dare to look away, hoping against hope for him to finally say something, anything, even though you’ve been in a dozen arguments like this that all ended the same way. This time, you pray with bated breath, this time it has to be different.

“I guess it was just a bad idea,” he says finally, quietly.

Every tensed muscle in your body goes limp, and you’re pulling yourself out of the suffocating car before your mind has even formed a coherent thought, dying to get away from him. The asphalt seems to sizzle, and you wonder in a daze if the road is just a mirage and you’ve actually been standing in one spot this entire time.

You’re standing in the heat, the warm wind making your skin sting with sweat, and even with your hands covering your face you can still sense Jeonghan’s presence behind you. When you turn, there he is, standing still in front of the car. The sun’s rays reflect off of the hood of the car and into your eyes, and you blink back against the stinging brought on by the forceful brightness. For a second you can’t see the expression on his face as he shifts, his silhouette outlined in shadow by the glaring sun, but then your eyes adjust to the light and the look on his face makes something crack and split apart in your chest.

You know then that he will not say anything. He will watch you walk away, again and again and again, with that stoic set of his shoulders and the proud line of his mouth, but he will not say a word. You want to grab him and shake him, scream at him to say something, but you know that his words, in all their vehemence and vitality, are reserved only for him. And you’re going to stay outside, forgotten in the sun, where he hung you out to dry all those months ago.

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a twinge of pain against the side of your ribs where his fingers dug into your skin last night. For a moment, you can almost feel his hot breath on your neck, his teeth on your thighs, but you blink, and suddenly the distance between you feels too great. Jeonghan’s eyes bore into yours, the heels of his palms braced against the hood of the car he leans on, and even in the sweltering heat you have to suppress a shiver.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” you whisper. “Even when I didn’t have a choice.”

A muscle in his neck pulls taut, but all he does is lift one corner of his mouth in a lazy, sardonic smile. You watch him pretend not to notice as his grip turns white-knuckle-tight.

“Needs must when the devil drives, sweetheart,” is all he says.

You have no response to that. “Right,” you whisper. Your fingers are trembling, and you’re definitely in no state to drive, but you’re suddenly seized with the desire to get away from it all. Away from him. “Take me home, Jeonghan.”

Peonies have always been Joshua’s favorite.

Even though you’ve never been big on elaborate apologies, the guilt you feel after having ignored your injured best friend for the past couple of weeks is strong enough that you end up buying a whole bouquet for him. Joshua’s mom’s face lights up when she sees you, and you give her a shy, apologetic smile right before she sweeps you up into a bone-crushing hug.

Your eyes widen, but you wrap your arms around her anyway, feeling stupidly emotional at the warm reception. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in so long!” she gushes, and you ignore the painful squeeze of your heart upon hearing the endearment. “If Josh had told me that you were coming, I would’ve made your favorite cherry brownies.”

“No problem, ma’am, I’ll be sticking around for a while,” you tell her with a warm smile.

“Oh, you must be looking for him,” she says, “Poor kid’s been cooped up for weeks, he misses you so much. I think he’s in the backyard, or I would’ve called for him.”

The backyard? You wonder what a guy with a broken leg is doing in the backyard—definitely not sunning himself in this weather—but you thank her anyway. Gripping your bouquet, you head to the back of the house, pushing past the screen door and stepping into the uncut grass of the Hongs’ backyard.

And stop short.

“What the fuck?” you sputter.

Joshua almost trips over the black-and-white football, steadying himself last minute to look up at you with wide eyes. Your grip on the flowers has tightened even further as you imagine it to be the boy’s throat. “Hey, ____,” he says with a strained grin. “I didn’t know you were coming! This is such a lovely surprise. And are those flowers? For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

You stare him down, unrelenting. “I didn’t realize broken bones could heal themselves in less than three weeks,” you say pleasantly, a contrast to the death glare that pins him in place. “Shouldn’t you be resting, sweet Joshua?”

“Oh, um, the doctors were pretty surprised too. Miracle recovery, they called it.” He lets out a forced laugh as you cock an eyebrow menacingly. Joshua sighs, dropping the facade. “Okay, that’s not working, huh.”

“No,” you tell him. “But I can break your leg right now to make it all true, because I know how much you hate lying to your best friend.”

He puts his hands up placatingly, taking a careful step back. “Hey, hey, hey, I can explain,” he says, sweating. “Why don’t we go back inside and get you something to drink, and then I can tell you why I lied,” he suggests with a nervous smile. “You must be parched.”

You give him a dirty look. “For blood, yeah,” you mutter. “This better be fucking good, Hong, or I’m going to break both your legs.”

Back in his room, you opt to stand near the doorway in case he tries to bolt. You’d tried to upend the peonies into the bin, but he’d grabbed them before you could, saying that the poor flowers weren’t to blame. Joshua sits on the edge of his bed, hugging the bouquet to his chest, and you fold your arms threateningly across your chest. “Alright,” you say waspishly. “Explain yourself.”

He looks down at his shoes, see-sawing the heels of his cleats back and forth. “Before you get mad,” he starts, “you gotta remember one thing. I did it for you.”

Your lips curl downwards into an unimpressed frown. “Let me get this straight. You lied to me about your leg being broken, sending my ex-boyfriend in your place to take me home, for my sake?”

Joshua winces. “That sounds pretty terrible when you put it like that,” he confesses. “But, yeah, I did.” You unfold your arms, making as if to step towards him, and he yelps, putting his hands up again. “Let me explain!”

“You’ve explained plenty,” you tell him.

“No, I still have stuff left!” he pleads. “Listen, after you broke up with that guy, you weren’t the one who had to deal with him afterwards. While you went back to college, I had to stay here and be there for him while he was moping all over the place.”

You roll your eyes. “I would hardly call you and Jeonghan friends. There’s no reason he would come to you for comfort.”

“I mean, yeah, he didn’t,” he admits, “but this is a small town. Do you know how hard it is to escape the news of one break-up, especially one as high-profile as yours.”

“High profile?”

“You know what I mean,” he chides. “The point is, you didn’t see him afterwards. He was really torn up about it, you know?” You purse your lips as Joshua leans forward, his expression turning serious. “I didn’t have any sympathy for him in the beginning, because of what you told me, but the more I saw of him the more difficult it became to match up the idea of the Jeonghan I knew and the Jeonghan you said told you all those things.”

Scoffing, you look away, unable to stand the sight of Joshua’s imploring eyes. “Just because you couldn’t make sense of it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m not defending him. What he said to you—about not seeing the point in putting in effort, that you were just playing at charades, and the thing about your relationship being a childish mistake—”

You grit your teeth. “I get it. I was there, remember?”

“Yeah.” Joshua scratches his head, a thin line appearing between his brows. “He had no right to say any of that to you, but I still felt like there was something I was missing, so I went to talk to him.”

Defeated, you throw your hands up. “Of course you did.”

“And I don’t think he meant any of that. I mean, he still shouldn’t have said that shit, but…” Your eyes narrow to snakelike slits, and he shakes his head hastily. “Haven’t you ever gotten the feeling that despite all his bravado, the guy just doesn’t know how to express his feelings without getting defensive about them?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. Joshua sees the shift in your mood, and persists. “I might be wrong, and maybe breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to you,” he says, “but if there was the slightest chance of miscommunication, I would be a shitty best friend if I allowed you to let him go without a chance to set things right.” He tilts his head, sitting back. “So I faked a broken leg and kind of tricked him into thinking I was doing him a favor by letting him go get you in my place.”

“You tricked Jeonghan.” You can’t lie, you’re impressed. “Wow, you’re insane.”

“Um, I would say talented,” he argues. “Anyway, he was happy to do it. I think he was secretly looking for a chance to talk to you, so I thought a five hour drive might give him enough courage to tell you how he really felt. Then when you came back, I thought I’d surprise you, and we’d get to go on that trip after all. And then you texted me that you were eloping with him—”

“That’s not what it was.”

“—and I thought that my idea had worked. But then…” he trails off, and looks down at the flowers in his hands.

“But what?” you prompt.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he says. “Something clearly went wrong.”

You sigh, and walk over to sit down heavily beside him. “It was going fine in the beginning,” you tell him. “But we didn’t actually talk about the argument, and after a point, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Then we sort of…” You wince.

Joshua frowns. “What?”

You think about all the different times the two of you fucked instead of talking about your feelings. “We kissed,” you finally speak, and Joshua shakes his head disappointedly. “A few times.”

“I’m getting the feeling that’s not all you did.”

You shush him. “And then it sort of reached a boiling point, and we argued. Again.” Your heart hurts as you remember the argument from only hours ago. “And he said some messed up things. Again.”

Joshua is silent for a few moments. Then he slings an arm over your shoulders, squeezing you against him in an incredibly comforting side hug. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, and you blink back tears.

“I missed you.” You reach up to wrap your hands around his shoulders. Joshua’s hugs are as comforting and as restrictive for your breathing as his mom’s. “I had the worst fucking time, but it was also the best fucking time,” you sniffle into the crook of his neck. Then you spot a gleaming trophy on his ledge. “Oh, so you guys did end up winning the playoffs.”

Joshua looks back, and nods. “Oh, yeah, the second half was absolutely insane. Remind me to tell you about it.”

You tuck your chin into his shoulder. “I still can’t believe I threw a whole tantrum about not getting to go on a trip,” you say, “when I could’ve just come back and done it anyway.”

“Don’t worry, we still have weeks to make up for that.” Joshua rubs your back comfortingly. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, he is,” you mumble, speech slightly obstructed by your cheek squished against Joshua’s shoulder. “I just thought things might be different this time.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

You press your face back into his neck. "You're not off the hook, by the way."

Joshua sighs.

Joshua’s mom insists on throwing you a welcome back party that night, and despite being both emotionally and physically exhausted, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. She makes you your favorite cherry brownies, as promised, which are the only thing you eat before your appetite runs out.

You sit alone at the table after everyone is done eating and the guests have dispersed around the house, dragging your spin around the empty hollow of your bowl. Your shoulders feel heavy with the weight of all the mistakes you’ve made. As you sit there idly, you keep running your last conversation with Jeonghan over and over in your head, wondering what you could’ve said to make it go differently.

You close your eyes, and for a moment you’re back to last October, standing on the ice-slicked ground outside the diner where you’ve celebrated every birthday with Jeonghan since eighth grade. His eyes are vacant and vicious and there’s ice trapped around your ribs that seems to be getting harder and sharper with every breath, and you’re screaming at each other until your throat is raw and your tears freeze in the cold.

There’s no point in crying over spilt milk, you suppose, and you’ve always been a hothead. You and Jeonghan together are about as mild as an active volcano.

Sighing, you get to your feet, the table cover rustling over your knees. You’ve stayed for about as long as you could have, and now you just want to sleep. I’m just gonna tell her I’m tired, you think, and head towards the backyard in hopes to catch Joshua’s mom conversing with someone there.

You step outside into the dark to find a single person sitting on the rickety old swing. Frowning, you move closer to figure out if it’s her, but the frame is too tall and masculine to be the person you’re looking for. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” you tell them as they raise their head, taking a step back.

“No. Stay.” A hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist, tugging it towards the swing. It’s then that you notice the silvery-blond hair, lit up by the smattering of light that shines out past the half-open screen door. Jeonghan gets to his feet, and you freeze. “Please.”

“I didn’t realize you were invited,” you say stiffly.

“I wasn’t. I just came to look for you,” he says. There’s an earnest touch to his voice, giving you pause. “To apologize.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your hackles rise. “What could you possibly have to say now?” You free your hand from his grasp, taking another step back. “You’ve made it sufficiently clear that this never meant anything to you.”

“Of course it meant something!” he yells. He takes a deep breath, chest still rising and falling. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was—I was scared.”

The notion sounds so ridiculous that you want to laugh in his face. But his eyes are still on yours, voice is gravelly and somber, and you feel like you’re rooted to the spot.

“Scared of what?” you whisper.

“Scared to repeat history,” he replies. “Scared to let my pride get the best of me again, say things I don’t mean. Lot of good that did me, since trying to avoid talking about it just led me to making the same mistakes.”

Your throat constricts painfully, like it’s being choked from the inside. “You really hurt me, you know,” you say hoarsely. “I never wanted to see your face again.”

A small, sad smile touches his lips. “I know,” he says. “Knowing that you didn’t want to see me made everything so much scarier. What if you just refused to come back with me? What if you’d rather just stay back or actually take the bus?” He seems to struggle with his words for a second. “When you agreed to come on that stupid road trip, I felt like I had struck the lottery.”

Your vision is blurry, and you blink rapidly against the oncoming tears. “Thank you,” you whisper, choking back the emotion that surges up your throat, “for telling me that. But,”

He waits.

“That’s not enough,” you complete tiredly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asks, eyes blazing. He looks just as tired as you are. “Is it because of what I said? Because—I don’t know how to make you believe this, but I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

“No.” It feels like the only reason you’re standing still is because every cell in your body has had the energy sucked out of it, leaving you bone-weary. “It’s because you never say anything. And I’m sick of it, Jeonghan.” Your face twists as you try not to start sobbing like a little kid. “I can’t live knowing that you can go back to pretending to be that wooden, unfeeling shell of a person every time I rip myself to shreds in front of you. I hate that you never say a word, that you’re willing to watch me walk away rather than choke back that damn pride of yours. I’m fucking sick of it.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not the same person I used to be, sweetheart. Losing you taught me that,” he says quietly. “Even if I forget that at times myself. Please, just let me show you.”

“I'm not a girl anymore, Jeonghan,” you say tightly. “I don’t know how many second chances I have left in me.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” He moves towards you, cupping your face. “Because you still feel like a girl to me… and I still feel like a boy around you. I'm afraid that you're growing up and away and out of me. That’s how I felt last October, when you came back so different, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I thought you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“Then why didn't you say that?” you demand, lungs burning. “All this time, I've been—” You finally let the tears flow. “I’ve been so…”

“Because I'm still seventeen," he breathes, "every time I look at you, choking on my words as you come down the stairs in your prom dress. I might be a devil, but when it comes to you, words still fail me."

There’s a barbed wire wrapped around your spine, a spike stabbing into each vertebrae, that tightens and tightens with every word that comes out of his mouth. He laughs under his breath, as if remembering something. “You see,” he says, “being around you kind of activates my fight or flight instinct.”

A broken laugh bubbles to your lips, and you blink against the tears that seem to make everything brighter around you. “You suck,” you tell him honestly, making him smile as if you’d just told him he was the most perfect man on earth. Standing straighter, you school your features into an expression of formality, and clear your throat. “So how are you planning on not making the same mistakes again?”

“Well,” he says, “I’m gonna try really, really hard.”

You cast your eyes heavenward. “You’re really lucky I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“I know.” Jeonghan takes your face between his cold hands and pulls you in for a firm kiss. You clutch the hem of his t-shirt, feeling warmth spread down to your toes when he smiles into the kiss. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, too.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up,” Joshua gushes as you lug your olive green suitcase down the front steps of your porch. “Going off to college for the first day of her final year. I feel like we should take a photo to remember this moment.”

“Joshua, shut up,” Jeonghan grunts as he lifts the bag. “If you have the time to take a photo, you have the time to help me out with the luggage.”

“Um, aren’t you forgetting something?” Your best friend points exaggeratedly at the plaster cast that covers his foot. “I’m a bit disabled at the moment.”

Karma had come full circle for him when he’d tried to take over the neighboring eleven-year-old’s trampoline, and had ended up breaking his leg for real. Everyone thinks he deserved it except Joshua himself, who’d warmed up to the idea anyway when he’d realized that he could get people to sign cool stuff on his cast.

“You’re acting like I’m going for my first day at kindergarten or something.” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, you’re a real grown-up,” he leans over to pat your arm, withdrawing it hastily when you threaten to kick his broken leg. “Jeez, calm your tits.”

“I am calm.”

“Totally.” Jeonghan slams the boot of the Corolla, making a cloud of dust puff up. He reaches over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You ready to go?”

“I really think we should take a picture,” Joshua interjects.

Both of you turn to glare at him, and he shrinks into the wheelchair. “Sensing some hostility,” he mutters. “So ungrateful, considering that I’m the whole reason you’re together in the first place.”

“Exaggeration,” you say, and turn to Jeonghan. “I’ll just be a moment, okay?”

He nods, and you give him a tiny smile before running back inside the house. Joshua shakes his head curiously at Jeonghan, who only shrugs in response, just as mystified. They wait for a few more seconds, and Joshua pulls out the marker and begins doodling inside the D of your signature on his cast, which is a sweet, short message: Dick.

“Okay!” You command the attention back to yourself with a clap of your hands as you emerge from the door, this time with the plastic pink heart-shaped sunglasses adoring your face. “How do I look?” you ask, propping them up on the top of your head, and giving them a little twirl.

“Like an idiot,” your best friend says, deadpan. You smack the back of his head as you pass him. “Also, don’t forget your Hello Kitty backpack. They go with your glasses.”

“That’s mine, actually,” Jeonghan says pointedly, and turns to you with a heart-melting smile. “And you look gorgeous as always.”

“Disgusting,” Joshua comments.

You flip him off. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Well, then,” your boyfriend says breezily, patting the hood of the car, which causes another cloud of dust to billow into the air. “Get in. We don’t have all day.”

taglist: @fragmentof-indifference @sadgirlroo @joonsytip @odetoyoon @sstarrysshit @lockburn-castle @chocosvt @ohgeezitsbreadgenie @outrologist @ishireads @ti--red

#my thots charted throughout:#so if you haven't read the fic then IGNORE cuz obvious spoilers oh em gee #JEONGHAN IS HER PROM DATE awwwwwww <3 #not the slight change of plans i don't know why they're ex's yet but i'm on reader's side #:3 #me when joshua doesn't grab a hot glue gun and some staples to diy his leg back tgth :/ like stop being fake #omg yeah i feel so bad for reader and all that planning / coordinating she did w joshua going down the drain :_(#i understand her frustration i feel like trying to level w someone who is so calm but instigating would make me throw up #i used to work fashion at walmart and some of the shirts that came threw made me choke laughing #like jeonghan wym u don't want that I PAUSED MY GAME TO BE HERE t-shirt it compliments ur eyes babe #'you asked for this'#i just fainted down a well and hit my head on the water bucket #'plenty of time to regret it in the morning'#me when i smile with tears in my eyes #the spice scene was written soo beautifully it was like silk in my brain #NOO THE REGRET HITS LIKE A TRUCK #oh look at him now mr. VULNERABILITY doesn't it make you throw up??#'unburdened as those girls in sanitary pad ads' PLSSSS HAHAHA #omg the beach scene :( literally so pretty and fresh and now i want beach plz #omg the angst has exploded yessssssss BUT IT'S SO SAD and like gawd damn i feel like jeonghan himself is also too prideful #he'd rather just not say anything at all bc maybe he fears it'll just dig the situation deeper?? hmmm i'm not sure #cue is it better to speak or to die #OMFG JOSHUA THAT LYING B1TCH!#HE HAS GLASS BONES AND PAPER SKIN!!#okay so we get a bit more clarity in the joshua scene it seems like reader and jeonghan just clash in their similarities #and it kinda spurs the other so they never get the chance to rly communicate there's always a roadblock #'i'm still svt seeing u in ur prom dress' KMSSSSSSSSS #yeah like i think jeonghan was letting her walk away cuz he knew if i match her hostility or wtv we'll be back in the same place #but then it still didn't work out :(#THE 11 YEAR OLDS TRAMPOLINE IM PSISING MYSELF

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luvth0t · 7 months ago

Text

NEED ME? ━ L.N

in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.

it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.

“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.

the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.

he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.

“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.

he had his best friends best interest at heart.

“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.

and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.

but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.

“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.

the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.

he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.

there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.

that’s what lando thought anyways.

standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.

small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.

the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.

he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.

you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.

it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.

until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.

it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.

your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.

you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.

“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.

your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.

“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.

you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.

“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.

you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.

“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.

if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.

he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.

it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.

that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.

“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.

who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.

but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.

“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.

you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.

“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.

lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.

“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.

lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.

the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.

lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.

“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.

“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.

“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.

lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.

“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.

“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.

“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.

but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.

“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.

“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.

however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.

“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.

suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.

and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.

“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.

truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.

“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.

lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.

“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.

you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.

“just deprived i think,” you sighed.

lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.

and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.

and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.

he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.

his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?

he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.

“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.

“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.

had he been oblivious to the pair of you?

“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.

lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.

“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.

“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.

“whatever you say,” max mused.

lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.

dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.

you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.

forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.

lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.

he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.

he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.

he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.

not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.

even though it was all he wanted to do.

he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.

he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.

it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.

3:42 the clock read.

lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.

instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.

surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.

you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.

he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.

it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.

your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.

you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.

“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.

typical.

“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.

maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.

“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.

“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.

you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.

“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.

his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.

lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.

“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.

it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.

you’d only been out on the balcony once today.

“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.

“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.

“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.

it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.

“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.

you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.

you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.

but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.

“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.

was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.

“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.

they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.

“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.

the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.

he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.

“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,�� he told you as if you could forget.

you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.

your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.

“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.

lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.

it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.

“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.

you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.

“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.

his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.

you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.

“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.

it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.

your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.

lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.

he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:

his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.

as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.

you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.

he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.

“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.

his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.

“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.

he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.

lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.

his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.

“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.

he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.

you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.

but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.

your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.

lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.

“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.

your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.

you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.

“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.

your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.

his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.

lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.

your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.

he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.

you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.

he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.

definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.

lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.

when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.

you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.

“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.

“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.

if only she knew.

you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.

“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.

you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.

lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.

you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.

you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?

“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.

except she didn’t know the half of it.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.

you knew he was listening.

“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.

your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.

“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.

“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.

“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.

who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.

it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.

you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.

lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.

the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.

you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.

and he knew it.

so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.

which was easy.

it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.

made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.

left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.

there were sliding doors.

two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.

you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.

but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.

you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.

you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.

finally however, you got lucky.

lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.

you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.

your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.

that’s where lando found you.

stood in the kitchen. of course.

tiny bikini. typical.

and no one else in sight. lovely.

“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.

the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.

you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.

“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.

he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.

he should go up to his room.

“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.

the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.

“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.

lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.

that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.

he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.

“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.

you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.

“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.

you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.

“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.

you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.

so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.

“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.

once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.

“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.

his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.

lando always had a kink for making you beg.

“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”

your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.

“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”

you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.

it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.

able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.

you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.

“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.

he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.

“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.

your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.

“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.

it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.

it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.

the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.

your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.

he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.

you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.

the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.

so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.

his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.

he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.

he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.

“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.

you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.

his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.

his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.

your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.

taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.

“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.

he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.

you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.

his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.

“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.

you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.

and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.

but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.

the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.

your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.

because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.

you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.

you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.

lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.

it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.

you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.

he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.

it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.

“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.

it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.

his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.

“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.

how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.

you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.

he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.

“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.

he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.

“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.

you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.

you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.

“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.

“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”

your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.

you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.

his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.

“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.

you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.

his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.

“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.

his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.

whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.

you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.

lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.

he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.

he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.

your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.

“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.

lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.

“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.

“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.

his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.

it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.

“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”

it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.

“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.

he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.

his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.

“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.

you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.

“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.

lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.

your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.

lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.

his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks.

it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.

“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.

“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.

you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.

lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.

it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.

“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.

the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.

“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.

your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.

his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.

“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.

your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.

“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.

he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.

the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.

too long.

“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.

his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.

every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.

“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.

the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.

it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.

safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.

lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.

his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.

he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.

“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.

you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.

“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.

you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.

it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.

“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.

the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.

all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.

it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.

you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.

but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.

one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.

he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.

when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.

chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.

“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.

your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.

you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.

and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.

“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.

━━

a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???

anyways idk what this is but here it is

unedited atm so apologies xox

as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

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